Blessings to you for the New Year

Greetings to you all Friends and Family,

Here we are, standing before the inevitable . . . CHANGE !!!  Many people from all over are coming together with a certain commonality . . .  The New Year. We offer to each other the best of our Wishes, Prayers, Intent and Love. I am Grateful !

I would like to just take this moment in time to speak with you about our own Greatness . . .  Individually . . . and of course “Collectively”. This year we have witnessed many movements come about . . .  some for Good . . .  and some not so. The prevailing aspect of being of “One Mind”, is there is Power. We are witnessing that in such things as the 99% Movement; The 2012 Prophecies; World Healing, World Peace 2012 Movement and unfortunately the War, Famine, Suffering and Strife experienced across this Planet. But . . .  perhaps this is also a part of the “Perfect Balance” of Creation in that such things do elevate our consciousness and propel us to “Change”! This is a good thing i think; not the suffering, but the mere “Possibility” that we will awaken as a collective and employ our power to effectuate this “Quickening” to Change.

So this is my intent on a personal level based upon what i believe i have learned thus far in my life.

*    If i have it to Give . . .  i will
*    May i be Clear in my Intent for Goodness
*    May i continue without reservation to express my Goodness
*    May i always seek to see the Love and Light in my Brothers and Sisters
*    May i understand that “My Way” is just that MY WAY !
*    And Finally for me . . .  May i preface all aspects of my Life with Love.
*    May you have a wonderful and Wonder Filled New Year of Joy, Peace,
        Love and Harmony
*    May Each Moment of Goodness upon the path you travel transform
        into the Eternal
*    May you be clear and Understand that YOU are a Magnificent and Essential  
        Element of Creation and Powerful beyond our present Understandings.
*    May Your Inner Child come out to PLAY !!!


Blessings of Love

‘just bill’
William S. Peters, Sr.

Inner Child

Happy New Year

the road lies before us

to adorn it as we wish

what new Mountains

will you consider

along this pending journey my child

or will you be but a Valley Dweller

and wish

and dream

of all you could have been

could have done

had you tried

vied

to come outside

that of who you think you are

who you may have been,

were

and play

in this coming day

Happy New Year

from where i come

from where i come

we embrace a concept

that things must be done

that we may validate

self

journey

purpose

esteem

and dreams

to be

or not to do

to do

or not to be

what was that question you asked ?

where in the garden is the middle road

the Awakened One spoke of ?

or was it beyond the border

where the absence of suffering lived

you know

that village down the road

by the way,

where is that road

where does it begin ?

i myself have wandered for many a year

not always diligent

not always seeking

but always indulging

in something or another

there were many a sweet slumber

where dreams of miniscule things

such as a sweet embrace

were actualized

and i smile now

for it was those moment

that now loom so significant

in this little hovel

i live in now

there was a time

i cared not to dream

of such things as gardens

and now i am a forgone horticulturist

yes, forgone

for all other thoughts

have seemingly died

along that roadside

many years ago

but i remember them

for they earmarked

the steps of maturity along the way

maturity did you say ?

scratch that

for i still am in some sort of fog

however the contexuality

has changed

as life redressed it’s agendas

and me too

these days i anxiously await sign

to see that slightest showing of green

that signifies new life

as it crest the furrows

for what i do know

this is life

and with any providence at all

perhaps there will be a fruit

of some kind

this i do enjoy

so i plant seeds

along my road side

should i have to be redressed again

and visit that place

from where i come

(c) 29 December 2010 : William S. Peters, Sr.

and of course . . . i will smile

and of course . . . i will smile

we watch them go by

this occurrence of time

years

like rivers they flow

filled with smiles and tears

the fears we once held

have been dispelled

with the forward march

for they were

but some strange shadow

that somehow

interceded betwixt

me and my light

i reflect on the road

and the passages of rite

and rote

and a side note

we made it through

anyway . . . didn’t we

so here we stand

some looking forward

some behind

some blind-ed

by circumstance

or choice

yet for all

there are the voices

cloistering themselves

taking numbers

and standing in line

for their turn to speak

and plead their cause

for your attention

some offer obeisance

and reverence

and some

are just damned and filled

with arrogance

for me

for you

for anything but self

and how they would have me walk

and while they sit in the Lobby

and the truthful seekers

in the pews

seeking to aright

all the askews

in the me’s

and the you’s

we perhaps may get lucky

and comprehend

it is we who choose

to travel the easy road

or cut one of our own

and deep inside each one of us

i know we have known

that choice

and how we exact

our way of travel

is the voice the universe hears

and responds to

so i will skip

but not to Lou

for i have none

but skip i shall just the same

with a smile upon my countenance

for it is quite simple

voices or silence

this is where i am

and it matters not what i do tomorrow

for that will also appear

show up

and validate it’s self

as i just allow

my nows to be strung together

with no didactic recourse

and of course

i will smile

(c) 29 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

what do you see ?

what do you see ?

what do you see my child

when you look away from the Sun ?

do you see the shadows,

or are you temporarily blinded

by gazing at thy brightness

know that you are the Son of the Sun

it rises each morning to greet you

hold you

warm your expectant heart with its love

know my child

it is but a regenerative spirit

that has come again

to kindle that fire

within you

can you feel it’s purpose

burning you to a fever

to live this day ?

what do you see ?

(c) 27 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Oh how we danced

Oh how we danced

i took my beloved in my arms

we passed thorough the gate

into the garden

we looked in the eyes

of one another’s souls

where there is naught but beauty abound

we smiled

we danced

oh how we danced

(c) 28 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

i am just a poet . . .

i am just a poet . . .

destined or cursed

fated ?

i can’t help my self

words dancing in my head

seeking acknowledgement upon my pad

begging my spirit to liberate them

from their prisons within me

that they too

may see the light

such is the way

of we who listen

can you hear the cries of the children

the hungry

the thirsty

who wish to sup

from thy cup

and sit at thy table poet ?

feed them !

i look to the heavens

and words rain down

into my consciousness

stirring me to awaken

and serve

their syllabic libations

i look at one who may suffer

an anguish of their own

and it becomes that of mine

begging me to lend my voice

choice ?

within that of my own self

there are confused little children

playing in the playgrounds

swinging and laughing

falling and crying

as they are vying

against the tethers of my denial

i must give them life

i go to sleep

and they whisper

always attempting to awaken me

and my pen

is this the duty i have come to exact

in this time around the circle

we spin thoughts into stories

laden with spirit’s virus

that we may infect

that and whom may be affected

and none are safe

and the angry little devilish ones

seem to be having fun

when they expectorate

with a vengeance

when i liberate them

and their malcontent voices

i would rather think of

Flowers and Butterflies

but they won’t let me

they say i sleep too much

for their liking

we strike deals with them

for all that appeals to them

is to make me suffer

within

as i struggle to be clear

is this the embodiment of my fear

dear poet

that they may become silent ?

this is one for the ones who would understand

the demand

to write

speak

and weave the verse

with meter and rhyme

in lines

to be inspected

by those about us

more times than should be

belies our own validations

odd you say ?

for in the speaking

of those faintly heard voices

to the paper

we extricate our own woes

and who knows

what would become of me

if i did not

destined or cursed

fated ?

i can’t help my self

i am just a poet . . .

(c) 27 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

my eyes grow dim, but yet i fight

my eyes grow dim, but yet i fight

the world i once looked at

through my rainbow flavored thoughts

have dulled a bit

perhaps more

over the years.

all this is the becoming of adulthood

the glass i once looked through

needs to be pieced back together

polished

that these Rainbowic colors

may have life again

the pane that once reflected

naught but my joys

and innocence

and ignorance

now lies like shards

upon my meandering pathway

careful son

you may cut your feet

and bleed upon the carpet

or some pad of paper

leaving your footprints

your mark

of undeniable anguish

the language of tortured souls before me

still yet wish for voice

is this my destiny as well ?

. . . to pass on

with the song not completed ?

i look upon the faces of the children

and i see the possibilities

of their traveling this same road

of the impending doom

where one assumes

the righteousness of the world

and again, perhaps it does exist

but surely it is resonating

in a dimension apart

from the limited wholeness we view

askewed from the embrace

i hear all about town

and all around

that “Love” will save us . . .

will it alone be our Hero . . .

or are we required as well

i am compelled to remain confused

for that is the poison we are fed

in our own heads

where the light from that window

is forbidden to penetrate

wait . . .wait . . .wait

what am i saying here

Oh My God

i call on thee

you

to see me through

hear me

i am screaming

within

and without

in my lines and rhymes

and verse

and the lack thereof

i pray thee

may i become that child again

as this world i once looked at

through my rainbow flavored thoughts

completely dulls

for

my eyes grow dim, but yet i fight

 

(c) 28 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

can you hear that call ?

can you hear that call ?

he walked around the landscape of man

with the seat of his pants still dampened

from sitting upon the Dew ladened grasses

of the early morn

yes he still embraced

these magical moments of transformation

as he took a ring side seat

to the new day’s glory

on the Skirts of Mother’s Garden

he sat in a ambient silence

as he awaited the dawn of this days symphony

where the fragrance of Mothers offering

danced in the gentle stirring

of life

he could smell the Harvest’s fruit

as it whispered it’s hopes and expectations

to his soul

and he became the exuberant instrument of it’s song

he cared not about his own appearance

for that which he had witnessed

dwarfed the thoughts of man

and all judgment

all he knew is that

his heart was filled with a light

and he lent this freely

to all who would taste this Joy he possessed

the sweetness he gave

the Gift

he remembers how the Sun of the new day

crept across the landscape in reverence

slowly awakening it’s Children . . .

and how it’s vibrant light

touched his naked toes

and warmed them

only to completely envelope him

with an indelible surety

that he was present

and he was

he could still hear the chirping

of those who sat beside him

in this Amphitheater

in the Pews of this Holy Temple

and offered their praise as well

as they commenced with living

and giving back

in songs of joy

and gratitude

yes, he was thankful

each day

for in that stilled moment

within him

he was held by Creation

and the Hand that spawned it all

can you hear that call ?

the Song of your Heart.

(c) 27 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

The Inner Child Awards

Greetings Family,

We are Happy and Honored to acknowledge these Wonderful Souls and the Work they do in the Service to the "Community of Humanity" . . . won't you join us and offer your Congratulations and Blessings in Love.

Bless Up

Inner Child

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Can you feel me ?

Can you feel me

pain and suffering

despair and anguish

is but a finite space in time

and i shall pass through it

the portal to pierce it is mine

and i always knew it

i speak the language of the unknown

where untethered ancient souls have gone

and they lend me their ears

and give unto me the guidance i seek

through this unconscious wilderness

the test of all souls

is not to ascend

but that of being clear

that we may peer

in to the void

where chaos is spawned

where the dawn of every sun resides

awaken my child are the whispers

spoken through smiles

and flowers

which adorn the sides of the road we travel

towers built in deliberation and plot

will never alot an understanding

for the bounty of the heavens

is not in visions without

but within

where tongues babble,

there is wisdom in between every utterance

every word spoken

for this is where

the eeriness of silence lives

broken pieces of dreams

litter our cerebrality

and dance in the fields

we gather them

plant their seeds

hoping for a yield

whose sweet fruits

will allow us to forget

that which we have come for

our Cosmic errand

yet, secretly we vie for that portal

in the harvest

when we sit and break bread with the divine

where we un-corral our essence

but the door is hidden

in the riddle of the middle road

. . . ask Buddha . . .

i too drink the wine

and pretend it to be that sacred elixir

which once dripped from the lips

of my beloved

whom is reflected in mine own countenance

in life’s mirror,

but fear clouds my discernment

that i am “he”

and in the firmament of thought

i find no basis,

just another oasis

in the sands

of this seemingly endless desert

where the Gods and Angels

trod nor tread

or visit upon

with any certain frequency

yet somehow

something

assures me

that this is but a journey

this same energy

entity

implores me

to endure . . . hold on

until this broadcast of errancy

is gone

and i feel the ”Fault”

in the program widen

broaden and grow

as the sequence of what once was sacred

bleeds it’s antiquated

exaggerated lies

through the hearts of men

virgins

and children

as it is seeking

and vying

for it’s own cleansing and purification

and doctrines and dogma

and rote and rite

are being discarded

for they fail “Scrutiny’s” litmus test

yet the quest continues

as new venues are offered

to attract

and distract

the earnest ones

as we blindly deify falseness

and things that pass on

into the land of the forgotten

but me, you, we

i ask that this task

we engage

be re-explained

for whether it be

illusion or delusion

makes not much difference

for the pain in this moment

is like unto an eternity

when you are immersed in it

like in quicksand while sinking

we die a million times

and face it

as we are hopefully resurrected

in those fleeting visions

of extrication

liberation

salvation

and whether it be an hour

a day

a year

a lifetime

a moment or a minute

we are neck deep in it

can you feel me ?

(c) 26 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Happy Holidays

My Dear Friend,

wishing you all the Best this Holiday Season and Beyond.

~ ♥ ~ love ~ ♥ ~ peace ~ ♥ ~ harmony ~ ♥ ~

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Our Free Gift to the World and to You … Pass it On

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Blessings

Compellation and Tryst

Compellation and Tryst

what innate character within man

compels him to mold such manner

that has him

embrace his muse

with divine affection

in a moment

and thus

turn the shoulder

of conscious rejection

is it the dichotomous aspects

of Soul

the convolution of Spirit and Matter

and it does matter to me

the flatterous words of thee

my muse

as you impart to me

that which i can not

readily see

and then i shoo you

rebuke you

for you

make my indulgence

of self

uncomfortable

you do

i thought you knew

perhaps you do

as you exact what’s due

our appointed times have come

have gone

and at times you come

in rhymes and verse

at times

your words

are terse

as you attempt to disperse

that which is wayward

within

and then

i draw closer

to that mystical place

where i may one day face

my sum

i often contemplate

deliberate

and examine

many such things

as the compellation

and tryst of man

and with your whisperings

i believe i am on to something

i consider just how

does a Muse like you

speak thru

that which confuses me

as you bemuse me

with the breeze from Soul

from heart

but never mind, mind

for mind is being schooled

and ruled

by the illusions

and the delusions it creates

to not suffocate

its self in it’s own mind stuff

it regurgitates

how does one control a mind

a thought

its quite easy  you see

you take a Truth

and dress it with a Lie

and there belies the quest

of man

or you take a Lie

and veil it with Truth

and man will never understand

and that is but another test

and in my thinking process

i must confess

that i always embraced

Truth as an ultimate

but can i face it,

taste it upon my tongue ?

this is my song being sung

and thus continues

the venue

of the endless seeking

and we believe we are peeking

at the Sun

the Light

held within a Night

but not quite

who was it . . .  Descartes

who said

“Cogito Ergo Sum”

“i think therefore i am”

damn him

had we not assumed

would we . . . “BE”

caught betwixt

needing that fix

to become aplomb

and list no more

on the Oceans of consciousness

and find that shore

that safe harbor

where we journey no more

the stormy seas

uttering pleas to the heavens

twixt . . . and

of Compellation and Tryst ?

(c) 25 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.