Ther Vine Keeper

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Wednesday, March 16, 2011

for where i go . . . Self goes . . .


for where i go . . . Self goes . . .

time is accelerating
and i feel it’s push
it’s incessant nudging
to fall into the flow
this is when i seek stillness
i wish but to observe
that i may reckon myself
with my self

i stand in the light
and shadows are cast
there is more of me that one in me
and none are real
they are but etheric illusions
reflecting my dark from within
i wish but to observe
that i may reckon my self
with my self

i sit here with a head full of thoughts
and there is a multitude more
standing in line
waiting their turn to have audience
with my reason
what is the reason
that these thought vie so vehemently
for my attention
it seems that the more i ignore them
the more fervent they become
i wish but to observe
that i may reckon myself
with my self

i like most of us have questions
about so many things
usually prefaced by “Why”
that does not seem to matter as much any more
but to know when would be good
like when is this why going to be revealed
and the veil of this illusion repealed
and the book of our truth be unsealed
i wish but to observe
that i may reckon myself
with my self


yes i used to pray
beg for things
was never really quite sure what i really wanted
an in an undaunted way
each day
i would recite and say the same things
“Dear God”
Please
and now they tell me
of the New Rule
of the New School
that God is within me
i never saw Him
or Her
and if i defer to this New Way
of this quickening Day
will i be damned
like they told me i would
it’s all good
for now
i wish but to observe
that i may reckon myself
with my self

i reflect back
to that distant time of childhood
and the Joy of Living
of all that life was giving
with anticipation
of the coming of each new episode
each new day
i could not wait
and here i am now
quite a different me
waiting to see
if those times will return
caught in a vortex
of things that perplex my soul
so . . .
i wish but to observe
that i may reckon myself
with my self


these days i find it difficult to sleep
for it is my metaphor for missing the bus
or the Train
or the Ship
and if i should slip off
into that unconscious state
forever
what is to be the fate
of those days i have been longing for
who will hold the door
that it may not close on me
so i keep my eyes open
scoping for change
yes
i wish but to observe
that i may reckon myself
with my self

the Tuesday Muses are here again
quite the friendly type
through their whisperings
the hype is dispelled
and my soul felt anxieties are quelled
and hope is spelled out
in the words they offer
i trust them explicitly
but in my state of felicity
i am not as complicit
as  perhaps i should be
i realize
i wish but to observe
that i may reckon myself
with my self


for if i do not reckon self
then what have i gained
or learned
what is the next evolutionary step
in this experience
upon my path
is it my truth
that all that i see
feel
touch
hear
smell
and sense
is all that i hath
or is there more
beyond that door that i feel
is about to open ?
and my friends
this is why . . .
i wish but to observe
that i may reckon myself
with my self

for where i go
Self goes . . .


© 16 March 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

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