A Race against Time

Do not not wipe the tears away.
Do not sob in whipsers.

Weep fountains and thunderous waterfalls
Cry thundercaps.

Let your grief swell and build
And become a cyclone of loss.

Bereave humanity,

For that which we have lost
And for that which we are about to.

Watch the clock

Has an hour past yet?
For if it has

We have said our eternal goodbye
To Six of the species of creation.

Every Hour. Every Hour. Every Hour.
Six. Six. Six.

Soon the Jaguar will hunt no more
The burnt forest has displaced him.

Soon the Tucan will fly no more.
The firey trees, hold no nests.

The orchid does not bloom on razed soil.

Exotic beetles cannot fly in dense smoke.


Oh weep humanity, for if they go.
What world will be ours.

Do we want to stand alone?


* -- * -- * -- * -- * -- * -- * -- *

We are destroying species of animals at a rate, that the world has never seen.

There are now only approximately 6000 Tigers left in the wild. Due to the horrifying fires in Sumatra.

How about this. Remeber Diana Fossey and Gorilla's in the Mist. There are now only 604 of Lowland Gorillas left in Rewanda. These magnificent of creatures and shot and poached for zoos. These the closest of our primate relatives.

6 Species an hour dissapear from our decimated rainforests. Mostly in the Amazon, but also in South East Asia. Through logging and burning.

We can do a couple of things. However. Contribute to the World Wildlife Fund.

Save the Rainforest.

The journey began in a month of joy.
And seemed filled with intoxicating
Carelessness.
Doused with benevolent enmity.
Baptised into pretended trust.
My innocent heart waited.
And with indepcipherable longing
Marked time, for the duplication
Of our souls to compress themselves
Into Oneness.

With disarming candour,
Already detatched
Before the
Beginning of the End.
Alluding to enamoured influences,
I held within my arms,
That witch I percieved as truth.

Then looming out of the
Valley of Betrayal
Across the Vale of Impediment,
All I had of you.
All I had of me.
All I believed.
Ceased.

In a single mindnumbing sentence.
I was blinded to the impending
Loss.

First of you
And then more of me.

Invalidity. Unusable. Unaccepted.
Became the Catechism and Dogma
That caused even my soul to believe
Elaborate Untruths
About me.

And then with no foreword,
No prologue.
No announcement.
Peace began to embroider
It's own pattern
And a new tapestry, with affectionate

Transformation,
Wove a new portrait of me with a delicate calm.
And placed at its centre,at it's core.
A rare and costly
Labyrinth of Self Worthiness.

And finding my way through.
Found the welcoming door.
Of Redesigned Serentity.
c SF 2000

The Medicine Chest

How easy is it,
To become a victim
To the past and its
Sneaky crevices of hurt
And Pain?

Oh it is easy!


For it comes like bad medicine
From the cabinet of
Self Pity.
Just take the bottle and
Swallow whole.
And you will feel so bad,
So alone,
So lost.
That the rest of the world
Will dissapear.
And you along with it, into

The Abyss of Resentment.
And that is exactly
What it intends for you to do.

But on the same shelf,
There, right there..

Just look a little harder,
Right next door to the
Poisonous Nostrum.

Is the healing balm of
Not Giving the Power To A Negative Emotion.

It is a longer recovery,
But the outcome is remarkable,
And once applied to the area of heart.
The cure happens with quickened wonder.

I Can Do Anything,
I Can Take On Anything.
I Can Love.
I Can Share.
I Can Believe
That man is a finer creature.
And that he was meant to
Shine in Splendour
Of his own
Self empowerment

c 2010

The Sacred Key

Standing at a door.
Hewn from past Milleniums.
The deafening roar of the silence
Of time, comes.
And in quiet rabble
Tell all who would have ears
To hear, of the

Veneration of noncontainment.

Echocing the challenge of
Proceeding generational
creation.
Profitable in each of its design
The procedure is long and labourious.
The influence of star stuff,
Balancing the comings and goings
Of life from its beginnings.
And up and outward toward
The mangnitude of impassioned
Procreation, to keep the future
And future, futures, alive
With ongoing harmonies.

Does not the grasses sing in
Breezes yet to gently blow.

Does not their seeds wait for
Their deliverance and resting place.

Flowers wait in earnestness for
The buzz of their surrogate lovers.

Creatures seek each other for that
Inherent drive we seek each other for.

The ever vigilant earth seeks
Deep within her own heart
To build and restructure the
Rock and granite and clay.
Like furrows in a field.

Precise and virtuous.
In worthy adroitness
she renews, replenishes and replaces
giving to us helpless mortals.
Unselfishly

The key to the door of
HER
Own mortality.

Autimn Glow (from an older post)

Reflections in a Dewdrop
Heralds the splendour of autumn,
With her jewel box of pigments,
And displayed machinations.
Leaves drift from their safety,
Like small pieces of fabric.
As the trees discard their garments
So as to usher in their rest,before
Adorning themselves afresh,
With the blossomed robe of spring.
The draughts of transition,
Pick up these small tokens,
Of the last of summer.
hiding their secret of change,
And in a dance of companionship
They sweep and scurry in whirls of
Alluring mayhem.
And at the bidding of nature's principle,
These her children,
In effortless accumulation,
Give breeze whispered voice,
And unwittingly usher in the unseen
Covenant
Of reintroduced extravagance

c SF. 2000

Litany Revisited

Alighting with the supreme gentleness,

my Beloved's whisper,arrived

And the thunderous roar of

His spoken word.

He overpowered my spirit,

With His.

Bringing the sweetness

Of formidable initmacy.

And the urgent

Splendour of our union

Now

Will soar into the Celeste of,

Forever tomorrows and go on

Into Infinite consistency.

And His triumph, with

Immortal dequisition

Will fill my cup with

Jubilation.

And cover me with a garment

Of total serenity.

Is not my Beloved,

One altogether lovely?


Copyright 2010

Litany

My eyes see a new vision,

That I pocess nothing.

And that YOU pocess all I have.

You have restored me and made me whole,

And my heart leaps at the thought.

The tree of longing,

That has grown so long in the dark place.

Is now filled with supreme fruit.

That is harvested in abundance.

And now the bowl at the centre

Of my table,

Is for all to take from,

And be satisfied.

* * *

My glass is filled to its precious brim,

Of the choicest ruby wine,

From YOUR vineyard.

And all who taste it will be rewarded.

It is the vintage of,

Life,

Strength,

Tenderness,

Wisdom

Understanding.

And the heady mix of these precious ingredients.

Will sing forever within my veins.

And mix within our bonded blood.

I am my beloved's

And he is mine.

The silken canopy over our table of delights.

Is wrought and embroided,

Worked exhaustedly with the finest gold.

And in every stitch, painstakingly applied.

Reads and rediscovers it's own sweet litany.

LOVE * LOVE * LOVE *
copyright 2010