Faithful Silence

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To be faithful to my inner truth

No country can claim my soul

To honour the inner wisdom

No religion can attach to my smile

To satiate authentic travels

No borders will ever prevail

To sing my eternal song to the universe

Requires infinite silence of my mind

One to one with all of life

To Shine, to Be

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Silence all these hidden years

While my pen waited in a broken hand

Biting my proverbial tongue

Before whispering the first word

For fear of disturbing the silent truth

Rejoicing, this voice begs to seek

Permission to share, to colour your dreams

With insights of mountain jungle desert stream

Into your heart I request admittance

To shine, to be

Being the Poem

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Rendered lame by science and facts

Handicapped by history and thought

How might I prevail over the prisons,

So my soul may once again rise?

To dream the fire of the butterfly

Sing the chorus woven by cicadas

Dance the jungle’s rhythm

Hear the ocean’s enigmatic charm

Reaching the full potential of union

Oneness with the world, with the word,

Being the poem

Return of the Unshaven Poet

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Is this any way to return?

Words marching through the rusty pen

Like notes through a musical cadaver

Abracadabra: Smile, a word becomes a phrase

Gentle rhythm simulates an evening rain

The poem searches for a razor

To shave off the dust of un-groomed years,

A vest to complete the literary wardrobe

Where will it find shoes to match?

This new-found fever for poetic flavour

Follows a thousand-day linguistic fast

Where no words were known to flourish

Emerging from behind the ink well

Greyer, yet more agile,

To what melody will he sing?