A Nomadic Soul.

Deep inside lies a nomadic soul.

You see one facade.

The one for the world to consume.

To laugh, and joke, and cajole.

 

Deep inside lies a nomadic soul.

What is visible is not what lies deeply hidden.

Conformity in a world that demands uniformity.

To think, and to feel, and to be the same.

 

Deep inside lies a nomadic soul.

What is visible remains consistent.

It is only what you want to see.

To be the same at work, the same at home, the same with friends.

 

Deep inside lies a nomadic soul.

Longing for inner voyages that no one would ever guess.

Only my heart knows where it must go.

To meet its longing, to feel its beat, to be different.

 

Deep inside lies a nomadic soul.

Desperately seeking to answer an ancient call.

Full of creativity and imagination.

To dream, to bless, to be called.

 

Deep inside lies a nomadic soul.

Reaching out into the distance my soul aches

to unite with whatever or whomsoever

its desire it evokes.

Deep inside lies a nomadic soul.

Distant and apart from who I am outwardly

feeling the separation from the absence

of light and luminosity missing.

 

 

While I live in this world

of social this and social that,

my heart is in exile.

Wildly misunderstood

in a world that seeks not to understand.

 

Deep down …

lies an old nomadic soul.

 

 

In the shelter of my soul.

 

In the shelter of my soul, I find peace.

In a world that knows no boundaries,

I go inward.

 

In the shelter of my soul, I find familiarity.

In a world that is deep and cold,

I go inward.

 

In the shelter of my soul, I find belonging.

In a world that has no frames or frontiers,

I go inward.

 

In the shelter of my soul, I find you.

In a world full of anonymity,

I find a like echo in the intimacy

of the other.

 

My mid-life desires

In mid-life, I long to inhabit my own dignity.

To wear it like a presence unknown.

 

The way I walk, the way I hold myself, the way that I sit, and speak or not.

 

In mid-life, I finally want to come into my own.

To wear my dignity with ease and composure.

 

The way that I look at you, hear you, and talk about you or not.

 

In mid-life, I desire to be respected and honored all for who I am.

To wear my self-esteem with confidence and brilliance.

 

The way that I look at myself with affection, understanding, and respect.

 

In mid-life, I no longer want to look out there for me, but deep within.

To honor my self, and to love who I am with concern and worthiness like a lover loves his love.

 

In mid-life, I want to bloom into the grace and graciousness that is all mine to claim.

To look deep into my heart and embrace the love and light that shines for all those who seek.

 

In mid-life, I want to wear my spirit held deep within, as my outer cloak, never to be robbed of again, only to be held like a precious gem.

 

In mid-life, I finally want to belong to myself letting my soul sing freely to you.

 

 

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

I am anxious, I am scared.

My soul trembles deep within, my confidence escapes.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

I know not what lies ahead of me, only behind.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

I live in an interim period of what is between.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

I feel no humor or sense of irony about me.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

I wait each day for a coming liberation to free me.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

One day soon, I will stop the punishment and smile.

Great uncertainty

Now is the time

of

great uncertainty.

 

What I once knew to be true

I know not of anymore.

 

Dishelvement and confusion

weight me down

with gravity.

 

My heart is heavy.

My physical body tired.

I am spent.

 

Now is the time

of

great uncertainty.

 

But, yet you stand there

on the margins of

unknowing.

 

You encourage and guide

with your all your experienced

wisdom.

 

You know not of me,

but yet you walk in my

very shoes.

You understand me.

 

There is no judgment

just release.

 

Now is the time

of

great uncertainty.

 

I feel your whole

presence enfolding

and helping me

find that stairway up.

 

I crawl then climb

up, up, up

the staircase

towards the door ajar

where the dim light

leads me forward

out of the darkness that surrounds me.

 

Now is the time

of

great uncertainty.

Hands reach out

Hands reach out

To hold another

To embrace the other.

 

Hands reach out

To touch and caress the lover

To bless the lives of others.

 

Hands reach out.

To mend fences that define the line.

To build walls that stand the test of time.

 

Hands reach out

to pull triggers killing one another

to swish a knife in defiance of some other.

 

Hands reach out

to take communion holier than thou

To drink from chalices in memory of a vow.

 

Hands reach out

to write books that tell stories from long ago

to direct symphonies of great show.

 

My hands reach out to you.

What will you do?

 

In the light of love

In the light of love,

the sacred luminous of holy

casts its glance

longingly.

 

In the light of love,

music is made

lovingly

crafted

by expressed longings.

 

 

In the light of love,

two are made whole

where once

they lay

separately,

they now lay

at once together.

 

 

In the light of love,

the divine,

appears

between them,

enclosed lightly

in

their lover’s embrace

loosely holding

love ever within.

 

Lately, my interest in chanting has been growing, slowly like a birthing it is taking root.  Deva and Miten lovingly share chanting with the world.  Their music is beautiful and so is their love.  

 

This is my poetic take on their song.