ToThePoem - a place for poetry

Those who don't feel this Love pulling them like a river, those who don't drink dawn like a cup of spring water or take in sunset like supper, those who don't want to change, let them sleep. This Love is beyond the study of theology, that old trickery and hypocrisy. If you want to improve your mind that way, sleep on. I've given up on my brain. I've torn the cloth to shreds and thrown it away. If you're not completely naked, wrap your beautiful robe of words around you, and sleep. RUMI

It is the music I hear From the depth of my soul. You are singing there And the sound is of all the colors in existence. Glorious and in balance. The bells, the strings. Horns. Percussion. I hear a drum slapping. It creates beautiful waves in space. The heavens laugh and Turn on their belly And do not feel frightened by it. Do not care as to when they will Turn back around. Babies are born at this sound. A cymbal. The sound resonates with The collective. Reverberates, And all listening souls join hands Feeling the vibration And filled with hope For mankind. And then the most beautiful voice arises Like pouring from a siphon. An undecipherable voice, An unknowing voice. Like an ancient, undetected language, Hidden in hearts of man. Of me. It extends out of me Like arms of an octopus, Reaching, singing, praising. Moving upward and onward, Trudging with sweat Of the journey. A most magnificent sound of living. The music inside me It lives and it breathes. It tells of your story And it fil...

It is blood red. It pumps with emotion It rush's out, Blood red. Spewing on those around me. And seeps in to my Eyes. And we, together, me and my heart Act and react as Madmen, Entangled. And blind. But transformation begins And to see, The being must move beyond love. Free the heart from the ropes that bind it, Allowing the ropes to become light weight, Strings, then feathers, then air, As I travel the hills, The rough terrain, To the emptiness. To release the heart. It is then that I can see again and It is still blood red, still me, But, this time it shimmers gold. It radiates purity. And then becomes white And it asks nothing of me Yet fills me completely. It has expanded beyond my being And can now hold me And hold you in your truest sense. It is love. Stephanie Lorentzen-Jordan

Don't take my word for it. I am but one on this planet, This creation of creation Of creation. I am made for purpose. As you are made for purpose. And I light the heavens at night When the Sacred touches the space Inside me. I am filled with beautiful eyes That search you And many many hearts that Seek you. And many many hands that Touch you. I vibrate when a cloud Of your reflection comes near. It is not even your essence, But the mirror of your essence And that is enough To fuse me to permanent longing. It is as though I am blind But you premeate me with A magnificent sight Which sees beyond What is natural. Oh vast love, Transcend me from here to there, to this, to that To being. I am but one on this planet, But you have given my heart its shape And it is filled with compassion. My word cannot be taken serioulsy. My word is often unheard. By the people. But what is said is not important. My heart is a vessel filled with The unspoken. A...

In my time I realized it wasn't about me. It was about something That was neither me Nor you. I went to a party. Calm was streaming Like the flow of a river, The current, even. But, the river was also Pinched at the sides. Being held in, Restricted by its shores. I went out. Left this collective consciousness. Took a deep breath And felt myself lifted Back up to where you are. I didn't notice this tension Until I walked away from it. The moon was shining, The clouds were drifting. It was then I realized That you were there all along. It was then I began to know The reason for my tension. You had been left there at the door. I had dropped your hand And decided to go solo. I was unguarded, Like a warrior without his sword. Like an infant without nurture. Masked. I willfully put on this mask. The people, They see something like themselves. How does one feel nothing out of something? I had felt nothing out of something. Out of substance a...

Is it a circle that I use to turn my self here? I am left behind As that wave of migrating consciousness Rolls toward the electric fence. In the essence of you is you Which is bigger than anything Of any importance. I get a small taste And it is finer than anything My mind has ever desired And gotten, or not gotten And continually wanted. Aware of the seasons And the moon's impact on that. Aware of the moon And the earth's impact on that. It is enough to just be aware. The rest of us sit in ritual-waiting Looking down each others backs As consciousness goes up in smoke. To be lost in repetitive motion Like a bicycle wheel spinning in space. Is it a circle that I use to turn myself here? It is all encompassing and cannot Be roped in. My mind is not fastened at the center with spokes. Is yours? Stephanie Lorentzen-Jordan

In the morning, I could not find you. And I mistook an old man for your glory. And I went about my day, Sometimes looking for you here, Maybe over there, at that corner, maybe this one. I saw a red hat on a beach And thought you had left it. I grabbed it and called out your name, And a child came running. We played for a while, until I had to Continue my search. In the night I did not feel you. And I let someone else in, Until the water-pot was almost full But evaporating quickly. It was in a dream we met. And when I am awake I dream of sleeping. To get those glimpses of you, There in my dark place. But I do not know If we will meet in daylight. You might reveal my soul And carry it away. When it comes, Find me well and able to deal. Stephanie Lorentzen-Jordan