Ther Vine Keeper

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Monday, December 26, 2011

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
assures me
that this is but a journey

this same energy
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
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

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.

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