Bird

The canary who peers into a mirror
doesn't recognize himself.
He thinks the reflection
is another little bird.

Are easy realities
also hidden to our eyes,
even in plain view?

Perhaps we fail to see are own face
glaring back at us
when looking at each other.

Hymn of Devotion to an Unknown God

May I lay my guns in the ground
so that they may not menace by my hands.

May I lay my eyes on young beauty
and ask nothing but its thoughts, and peace of mind.

May I lay alone
and drink the pleasure of solitude.

May I lay with another
and forgive my expectations.

May I know confidence
who's true face is silence

May I know strength
who's true power is letting go.

May I know love
compassion without prejudice.

May I feel pain
suffering without malice.

May I give
without anticipation for return.

May I receive
without the weight of obligation.

May I forget
past and future,
to invite life's lasting present.

May my spirit be free
to abandon passions
and practice the ecstatic dance
of a leaf carried by the stream.

New Friends

If I am some con-artist,
a nimble and cunning deceiver of the heart,
your only risk is validation.

But,

If I too am like you,
one who would kiss god on the lips
tongue and all,
in your suspicions,
you gamble what is most dear to you;

A kindred spirit in a land of strangers.

Probability Waves

There is a myth of assumption,
buried in the murk of our
nebulous reptile brain,
for the complete collapse.
Fear that as
Our Great Race
is coming together
we are also falling apart.

That
as we stand
contemplating the precipice of some new and deeper dark age,
that all the living world,
and the
definitively adaptive wealth of nature
mother of first mind,
will join us,
dragged dutifully into the void.

To me it seems
that to the temple of emerging science,
Worker of Many Miracles
many sometimes tithe a deeper,
instinctive truth.

Without eyes to see the stars,
and thought to give them radiance,
what is the speed of a photon?

Without a pupil,
does the object know relevance,
or even form?

To ride a wave of probability,
impossible without a surfer!

Consider the child,
who upon fully awakening in a dream,
must figure out how to break to her family
that she has become
a Multidimensional Color
who only responds to sound.
Will mother give such soft praise to this
new ubiquitous consciousness?

And while your being may ascribe to this,
and your perception freely conforms to it,
you still think
the very chalk from which you are drawn
can be erased by your own hand.

Pretend

A child possessed with the world of illusion
can cast such subtle spells in his own time,
he can manipulate the scenes and settings
and forget for a moment he is an actor, even in his own mind.

Jazz Band

I stopped to wait for another measure,
as their modality began subtly increasing.

Jealousy

How was it for the first of mankind,
who didn't have to think about dying,
Who's lives would end in genuine wonder,
instead of unadulterated terror?

What blissful dreams may come,
to those who wouldn't anticipate our dire endings.
It casts a shadow, just on the soul of a man
to contemplate such jealousy.