Holes Still

  When the darkest race has just been run
  for a million prayers, his kingdom come,
  when every child that he gave birth
  is gathered round his feet on earth,
  when peace is stored like hay in barn
  and all are proof from primal harm
  what place persists for cloven hoof
  or gory horn that holed the roof? 
 
 
 

Rays of the Son 
 
 
 

 The simpleton knows what simpletons know
 the mouse's house houses the mouse
 as somebody's body embodies my body
 this guise disguises these guileless eyes.

 When you flavour my curry to curry my favour
 and work on demeaning the meaning of work
 do you value my love or love my value?

 Always to get away from it all
 I rode today to Day's Bay
 where the weathered ferry ferried me.

 This muse is mourning this morning's news:
    Lotionless we bathe, 
     motionless we rave
       oceanless, in the rays
                     of the Son.
 
 
 
 
 

  Conversing With Him
 
 

I SAID
"You have always been kind of a father to me.
The only time you stood over me 
was to protect me from the fire with your shade."

    YOU SAY
"Love cannot be made to be.
Once it is there, it is there forever
and there is nothing you can do to erase it."

I SAID
"Rung by rung I climbed Jacob's ladder to your heart
washed in the clean of your love."

    YOU SAY
"When love refuses to die, 
you just have to let it be."

I SAID
"There is no more light than your truth."

    YOU SAY
"My right hand claps the bell of Truth, 
the ring is tolled forever."

I SAID
"I saw your arms full stretched,
no longer crossed as in your shroud's imprint."

    YOU SAY
"Love and suffering are one and the same
when one hand is in the other."

"YOU ARE ..."
    "I AM."
 
 
 


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(C) Copyright  2001
Terry Bowden
All Rights Reserved