| INSTRUMENT Lord make me an instrument of Thy peace-- (St Francis of Assisi) | 
| I am trying to walk the path of my truth. | 
| I am trying to write my truth. | 
| I pray to be an instrument of | 
| the Creator who is | 
| Truth itself. | 
| I am trying to walk the path of my love. | 
| I am trying to write of my love. | 
| I pray to be an instrument of | 
| the Creator who is | 
| Love itself. | 
| I am trying to walk the path of my awareness. | 
| I am trying to write with my awareness. | 
| I pray to be an instrument of | 
| the Creator who is | 
| Awareness itself. | 
| The Creator- | 
| Truth | 
| Awareness | 
| Love | 
| Co-inhering | 
| in bliss as | 
| The One. | 
| I pray to be an instrument | 
| of unity, | 
| of bliss, | 
| of The One. | 
| The infinite is bliss-- (Chāndogya Upaniṣad) | 
 
 
        | QUANTUM ENTANGLEMENT As above so below-- (The Emerald Tablet) | 
| Once upon a time | 
| there were two quantum states | 
| |Alice> and |Bob> | 
| born into a family | 
| coaxed by coherence into sameness. | 
| Entangled in oneness, so that | 
| knowing one you knew them all. | 
| But |Alice> and |Bob> were twins | 
| born with instructions to conserve a zero | 
| so that if |Alice> was made to spin one way, | 
| |Bob> would spin in the opposite way. | 
| And vice versa. | 
| Entangled | 
| Coherent and | 
| Correlated. | 
| The physicists that played with |Alice>'s spin | 
| observed to their surprise and chagrin | 
| that |Bob>'s spin instantly became opposite | 
| no matter how far away he was from his twin- | 
| maybe, even, on the other side of the galaxy. | 
| By the laws of special relativity, | 
| this is impossible - it just should not be. | 
| It seems these playful people have uncovered a | 
| quantum mystery. | 
| You see, in our world of ordinary matter and energy | 
| nothing can move faster than the speed of light | 
| not even information. | 
| A solution to this mystery might be that | 
| |Alice> and |Bob> exist not only in our world, | 
| but are also somehow present | 
| in a virtual world | 
| where information can travel at a | 
| speed of infinity. | 
| There is such a world in the basement of our spacetime: | 
| The rabbit hole of the vacuum, the world of zeroes, | 
| the world of unity, where there is | 
| no causality. | 
| The playful people have seen that as either of the twins | 
| get more involved with our ordinary world | 
| (and less with the virtual world?) | 
| they lose track of each other: they decohere. | 
| They become free from their obligation to unity | 
| and become completely | 
| Uncorrelated, | 
| Unentangled and | 
| Incoherent. | 
| Isn't physics fun? | 
 
 
        | हनुमान्: (HANUMAN:) Son of the wind, destroyer of demons, I bow to you-- (Krishna Das) | 
| The music filling the room | 
| is the Hanuman Chalisa | 
| written in praise of me, | 
| sung by a man who | 
| loves me. | 
| I am kissed by the perfume of incense. | 
| A candle flickers beside me. | 
| There is a man in the room with me. | 
| A moment ago he was prostrate on the floor, | 
| exercising before a small bronze statue of me, | 
| the monkey god of service and devotion to RAM, | 
| warrior in the cause of Love. | 
| There is love in the | 
| man's heart. | 
| I live. | 
| It is a beautiful symbiosis. | 
| Matter and Spirit, | 
| Spirit and Matter. | 
 
 
        | LAST NOTE | 
| The keys are sticking on my old piano | 
| and the pedals are broke. | 
| It's time to close the lid | 
| and let it rest. | 
| I hope when you think of that dear instrument | 
| you will always remember the | 
| sweet sounds that it made, | 
| and the joy that it gave me to bring | 
| music to my children and | 
| all whom I love. | 
|  | 
| When you think of me I hope you | 
| will always remember the music | 
| and this passionate wish that your lives | 
| will be filled with laughter | 
| and dancing | 
| and love. | 
| It's possible, you know, | 
| that wherever I go, | 
| your loving thoughts | 
| will bring music | 
| to my soul. | 
 
 
        | EVERYDAY EVERYMAN | 
| I live! | 
| Creation is not a dream! | 
| It is real because I am alive! | 
| I dance in freedom along my path in space and time | 
| balancing the oneness of my soul with the | 
| dualities of my mind. | 
| My mind studies | 
| the ways of the Mother, Pachamama, | 
| from the Cosmos to the living beings that surround me. | 
| She teaches me lessons of oneness, connection and harmony. | 
| As I pass through the world of the Mother and glimpse the | 
| oneness of life, my soul whispers a mantra to my mind | 
| "Be aware. Be grateful. | 
| Be aware. Be grateful." | 
| And I find the gratitude expanding | 
| the openings in my heart | 
| through which my soul | 
| guides my | 
| mind. | 
| I exist as a tiny single cell | 
| linked into the great network that is | 
| the body of mankind. | 
| My heart is the membrane that protects and defines this cell | 
| just as my physical being is protected and defined | 
| by the membrane of my mind | 
| and my body protected and defined | 
| by the membrane of my skin. | 
| My tiny mind is linked into the network of the noösphere, | 
| the great membrane that is forming to | 
| define and protect all | 
| of mankind | 
| The channels in the membrane of my heart connect my life to the | 
| world of Spirit, of Oneness, to the world of my soul. | 
| Through the openings in my heart I am connected in love and | 
| awareness to the Creator and all other beings living or dead | 
| whose hearts are open to connection with me. | 
| These connections are treasures laid up in Heaven. | 
| They are my immortal soul and | 
| the purpose of my life, | 
| everyday. | 
| As the brain evolved in the garden of the Mother | 
| into ever greater levels of complexity and connection, | 
| a critical state was reached, a new level of existence, | 
| self-awareness, emerged in the biosphere. | 
| The body of mankind was born. | 
| The noösphere is the brain in the body of mankind. | 
| And it too is now evolving in the garden of the Mother. | 
| Past is prologue. The direction is clear. | 
| The emergence of a new level of awareness for all of humanity, | 
| global consciousness, the awareness of our unity | 
| with each other and the Mother, | 
| is the destination here. | 
| The health of the noösphere reflects the health of the nodes in | 
| in the network from which it emerges. | 
| And vice versa. | 
| Everyday I rejoice in the freedom to choose to make my little node | 
| as healthy as I can, choosing to infuse all of my connections | 
| with the healing power | 
| of love. | 
| Everyday I take joy in acting to keep the tiny piece of the garden | 
| around me a place of peace and beauty, | 
| blessed by Pachamama and reflecting | 
| the promise of Easter, | 
| the presence of | 
| The Dove. | 
| But the horrors of Good Friday cannot be forgotten. | 
| There are tumors of hell in the body of mankind | 
| created there by people who have chosen | 
| to keep their hearts closed and | 
| so have no soul to help guide | 
| their selfish and divided minds. | 
| My open heart is an organ of compassion, an organ | 
| of mirror-neurons that can ache with the suffering of others. | 
| Compassion energizes the linking of my mind to the noösphere, | 
| nourishing its evolution, hastening the emergence of | 
| healing connection to those isolated inside the tumors of hell. | 
| My compassion is compounded by frustration because I know that if | 
| the people without souls, these demons who create the tumors of | 
| hell, would simply choose to open their hearts and their eyes | 
| to the presence of the Dove, | 
| all of this suffering could | 
| dissolve into Love. | 
| In the immune system of the body of mankind, | 
| Love is the antibody that heals | 
| the cancer of separation, | 
| the tumors of hell. | 
| The openings in the membrane of my skin | 
| connect my mind with the world of the senses. | 
| Sadhus and saints and ascetics through the ages have preached | 
| that the straightest path to the realization of The One | 
| passes through the renunciation of the senses | 
| and the mortification of the flesh. | 
| That is no doubt the path of the great ones | 
| whose purity of thought is above reproach, | 
| worthy of all reverence and respect. | 
| But that is not the path I chose. | 
| I have chosen to be a husband, householder and father, | 
| a path that keeps me firmly grounded in flesh. | 
| I stand before you in the skin of everyman | 
| all senses and appetites intact. | 
| My feet are stained from dancing in the clay | 
| in the garden of the Mother. | 
| My senses take pleasure from Pachamama's bounty and | 
| delight in the beauty of all of her children. | 
| When my mind hears the ascetic's rebuke and questions | 
| my enjoyment of life, my soul answers: | 
| "Just do no harm. | 
| Everyman's path can lead to The One." | 
| So, everyday I pray for my daily bread, | 
| to be delivered from evil, | 
| to be made an instrument of peace, | 
| for the Creator's will to be done. | 
| And everyday, my soul answers, | 
| "Be aware. | 
| Be grateful. | 
| Do no harm." | 
| And it tells me that the Creator's will | 
| for Everyman | 
| is that we choose to | 
| Love One Another. | 
| Everyday. | 
 
   
                   | EASTER SUNDAY | 
| Jesus lives! | 
| The Son has risen! | 
| Heaven exists for the people of the earth! | 
| Rejoice! | 
| Hell is a world of the mind | 
| - a world of dualities | 
| where Satan is free to roam. | 
| Heaven is the world of the soul | 
| - the world of Oneness | 
| where Satan cannot go. | 
| The Father | 
| The Son | 
| and the Holy Spirit. | 
| Brahman | 
| Atman | 
| and Ananda. | 
| The Condor | 
| the Eagle | 
| and the Dove. | 
| The Infinite | 
| the Finite | 
| co-inhereing in the Oneness that is Love. | 
| Today we can go beyond identifying our suffering | 
| with the image of the tortured Corpse | 
| nailed to the tree of duality | 
| planted in the soil of | 
| hell. | 
| Today we can turn toward the Oneness of Heaven | 
| and identify our souls with the image of the Dove | 
| - the symbol of the Comforter promised to | 
| all mankind by the Man on the cross | 
| - the symbol of the Holy Spirit | 
| - the symbol of the Love | 
| that makes us One | 
| and that lights | 
| our way | 
| Home. | 
| Love is the only way out of hell. | 
 
 
        | GOOD FRIDAY | 
| I live in hell -a world where there are | 
| parents who rape and kill their own children, | 
| men who throw acid in the faces of | 
| little girls that want to go to school, | 
| people who shout "God is Great" | 
| while murdering other people praying | 
| in their churches and mosques | 
| to the only God | 
| there is. | 
| I live in hell- a world where | 
| one group of people | 
| feels entitled to enslave another, | 
| where governments murder or imprison their | 
| own people to protect the power and wealth of the mighty, | 
| or where the powerful feel free to exploit and | 
| then abandon to poverty and misery | 
| the most vulnerable of our | 
| brethren. | 
| I live in a world that tortured and murdered | 
| the man from Galilee who long ago preached | 
| that the kingdom of God is within every person | 
| and that God's will, the only law there is, | 
| is to Love your Self and to | 
| Love One Another. | 
| In this hell even the followers of the Galilean | 
| have burned alive those who wanted | 
| to read the Gospels in their own language, | 
| or tortured to death those who value reason | 
| above the arbitrary dogmas of the follower's faith, | 
| or blessed the wars that have destroyed cultures | 
| and sickened humanity's soul. | 
| Today my heart is drowning in tears, | 
| squeezed in an icy grip of anxiety. | 
| I have been writing for months of another world | 
| where the will of the Creator is realized | 
| and the people in this world love one another. | 
| Am I going mad? | 
| I have been trying to guide the little boat | 
| of my own world with love and awareness | 
| but today the ocean seems so | 
| wild, vast and | 
| forsaken. | 
| Is my death the only way out of hell? | 
 
 
        | FRIGATE BIRD Riding wind and laughing at the moon-- (Krishna Das) | 
| A frigate bird glides lazily | 
| above the palm fronds | 
| framing my view of the sky. | 
| The fresh ocean breezes of Mexico | 
| kiss my skin with warmth | 
| and delicate moisture. | 
| My lovely wife | 
| sits happily reading | 
| by the blue pool. | 
| My thoughts turn to my children | 
| and I feel nothing but | 
| joy. | 
| In my ears are the music | 
| of my guru's chants- | 
| the holy name of | 
| RAM. | 
| My soul floats on folded wings | 
| above the tumult of my mind | 
| in the space between | 
| time and eternity. | 
| Everywhere I look I see only RAM-- (Neem Karoli
                        Baba) | 
 
 
        | ORION | 
| There is a beautiful | 
| sight in the sky tonight. | 
| Orion shines down on me. | 
| Once Orion reminded me | 
| of my first love, | 
| and the clear November nights | 
| of our courtship. | 
| Once Orion reminded me | 
| of winter | 
| and the time to | 
| gather wood. | 
| Tonight Orion is just another | 
| beautiful sight in the sky. | 
| Jupiter is chasing Mars along | 
| the highway of the Sun. | 
| While the moon casts the | 
| shadow of Mars onto | 
| Orion's belt. | 
| When I look at the stars in the belt | 
| I imagine seeing the trinity of | 
| *Awareness*Truth*Love | 
| hurtling through time | 
| to rescue the earth | 
| on the wings of | 
| The Dove. | 
 
 
        | FRIENDS | 
| Four open hearts | 
| had a meal together last night. | 
| While winter winds blew through the world outside | 
| we feasted and warmed ourselves with | 
| laughter and the sharing of our stories. | 
| We talked long into the night | 
| of the love in our hearts | 
| and our hopes for the | 
| world outside. | 
| Our parting embraces were strong with | 
| gratitude for the connections that | 
| nourish awareness and love. | 
| Going to sleep, the house was filled with | 
| the delicious smells of the spices of our feast. | 
| The warm body of my wife against my skin | 
| caressed the opening in my heart through the night. | 
| When I awoke there was | 
| incense on my breath. | 
 
 
        | TO A FRIEND IN DARKNESS | 
| They tell me that it looks like you may have given up on life. | 
| Life is a great gift if you learn to look at it that way. | 
| If your goal is truly death, then life has given you the gift | 
| of time to prepare for a happy death. | 
| What is a happy death? | 
| I think it's when: | 
| You can leave in peace with no regrets | 
| and leave peace behind you; | 
| When you can leave surrounded by love | 
| and leave love behind you. | 
| That is a happy death- | 
| entering all that is Love, | 
| being in love. | 
| In this life it may be that | 
| you are who you think you are. | 
| In the next it may be that | 
| you are who you love. | 
| So the last thing in this world | 
| you want to do right now is to | 
| lose the love of anyone, | 
| especially the woman who has so | 
| lovingly agreed to share your life. | 
| The first thing in this world | 
| you want to do right now is to | 
| Wake Up, my brother! | 
| Find the light within you. | 
| Love! | 
| Live! | 
| Please. | 
 
 
        | HAFIZ: | 
| Your beauty makes my heart leap. | 
| Your words make my heart dance. | 
| Long ago in his perfumed garden | 
| The Omram told me that the fire in my leap | 
| Is the fire in the engines of my life. | 
| But to remember that the engine room is blind - | 
| The ship needs a helmsman to keep it safe. | 
| His words are wise. | 
| The fire burns. | 
| The ship sails on. | 
| Long miles at sea have taught me | 
| That the only helmsman | 
| Who can bring me safely to You is | 
| Love. | 
| The fire in the leap | 
| And the fire in the dance | 
| Are one | 
| Love. | 
| Don't be alarmed at the leap. | 
| That's just the kind of heart I have | 
| A heart that leaps | 
| A heart that dances | 
| in | 
| Love. | 
 
 
        | BUDDHA: | 
| Sometimes you have to swim | 
| Through a sea of sorrow | 
| To find the light within you. | 
| The pure light of the One who | 
| will guide your way on. | 
| The One in whom we all | 
| coexist in love. | 
| The home where all | 
| love surrounds you. | 
| You will all be home | 
| When you all | 
| turn toward the light within you and | 
| Love One Another. | 
| For the light and your home are Love. | 
| It's as simple as that. | 
 
 
        | HOLIDAY WISHES | 
| May we always enjoy the experience of eating food | 
| prepared by someone who loves us. | 
| May we always experience the joy of preparing food | 
| for someone we love. | 
| May we always experience the joy of | 
| being in the presence of someone who loves us. | 
| May we always experience the joy of | 
| being in the presence of someone we love. | 
| May we always be aware that we are | 
| living in the presence of The One, | 
| the Creator of all that exists, | 
| The One who nourishes all life, | 
| The One who is | 
| Awareness itself. | 
| May we always choose to | 
| Love one another | 
| so the energy of The One can help us | 
| make a better world. | 
| For The One is | 
| Love itself. | 
| If we doubt that The One helps and guides | 
| those who love one another, | 
| may we at least choose to love our Self. | 
| May we love our Self so we can | 
| experience the presence and the | 
| Love of The One within. | 
| And may the Truth of that experience | 
| be reflected in our own lives. | 
| May every human being learn how to live | 
| in the presence of The One - | 
| who is Awareness, Truth and the | 
| Love that makes us One. | 
| Joy To The World. | 
 
 
        | A MEALTIME PRAYER | 
| Let us give thanks to __________* | 
| for life and the bounty of the Earth. | 
| May these gifts nourish our bodies. | 
| May this gathering nourish our souls. | 
| May our souls nourish the Earth. | 
| We pray for this in the name of | 
| Awareness, of Truth and of the Love | 
| that makes us One. | 
| Amen. | 
| *FILL IN THE BLANK (Some suggestions) | 
| the Universe | 
| The One | 
| the Creator | 
| the Lord | 
| the Mother, Pachamama, | 
| God | 
| Allah | 
| Brahman | 
| Maa Durga | 
| our Ancestors | 
| --- | 
 
 
        | WAVES | 
| Love One Another. | 
| And one day waves of trust | 
| will surge through the noösphere | 
| that will sweep away all weapons of mass destruction. | 
| Love One Another. | 
| And one day waves of understanding | 
| will surge through the noösphere: | 
| -that a bond for building unity among mankind is that | 
| we all love our children; | 
| -that every child born on the earth has rights to protection, nourishment, medical
                    care, a healthy environment, literacy and access to the noösphere. | 
| Love One Another. | 
| And one day waves of compassion | 
| will surge through the noösphere | 
| that will lead mankind to work together to make those rights a reality for all. | 
| Love One Another. | 
| And one day waves of wisdom | 
| will surge through the noösphere | 
| allowing mankind to find ways to share the resources needed for this work without
                    conflict and without damaging the earth. | 
| Love One Another. | 
| And one day waves of activity and enterprise | 
| will surge through the noösphere | 
| that can use the talents and energy of every human being to help bring about and sustain this better world. | 
| Every life will be recognized as precious. | 
| All will prosper. | 
| Love One Another. | 
| And we will bring about the reign of the Spirit on earth. | 
| That, or the caves. | 
| It's our choice. | 
 
 
        | GRACE | 
| Gracias. | 
| Thanks. | 
| The only prayer in response to Grace is | 
| Gratitude. | 
| Grace is the vision to see the Creator | 
| everywhere and in everything. | 
| This vision is the greatest of all gifts. | 
| but it is not something you can be given | 
| --like manna. | 
| It requires our cooperation. | 
| We have to open our heart to Grace. | 
| Grace is an aspect of the Creator | 
| experiencing the Creator. | 
| When we all have the Grace to see that | 
| we are all aspects of the Creator - | 
| that we all emerge into this world | 
| from the dimensionless ocean of | 
| Love and Awareness, | 
| the Kingdom of the Creator | 
| will have arrived on the earth. | 
| In the meantime, | 
| remember Karma. | 
 
 
        | PAULO COELHO: A Personal Legend | 
| I am an aspect of the Creator. | 
| To walk righteous on my Path I reflect the | 
| beauty and compassion of the Mother | 
| and the wisdom and mercy of the Father. | 
| I tread lightly on the earth. | 
| I honor and respect the body I have been given | 
| and treat it with love. | 
| My Path leads to Awareness - | 
| the male aspect of Love. | 
| The fire that powers my steps | 
| along the path is Love - | 
| the female aspect of Awareness. | 
| I exist to bring Awareness and Love - | 
| the Father and the Mother as The One- | 
| to all situations. | 
| It is not my purpose | 
| to convince you that we are | 
| all aspects of the Creator. | 
| That is what we all know. | 
| It is sufficient that I | 
| walk righteous on my Path. | 
 <
  <
        | YOUNG BEAUTY | 
| Beautiful young woman | 
| with jewel eyes and soft smile | 
| you will fire my dreams | 
| with warm kisses and the heat of our embrace. | 
| In the light of the day we pass | 
| stunned by your beauty | 
| surprised at the peaceful acceptance | 
| that never again will I know | 
| the excitement of discovering your body | 
| of igniting your passion. | 
| You smile at the old man. | 
| Maybe you know that | 
| his heart leaps at the sight of you | 
| that he could wrap you in his | 
| wisdom and his wealth | 
| and sweeten your life with | 
| slow and powerful pleasures. | 
| But he will not fill your womb with children | 
| There is no future for you here. | 
| So you see only that he has no hair | 
| that his skin is weathered and wrinkled | 
| and you pass him by. | 
| The woman at my side gently | 
| takes my hand and I know that | 
| the joy in my heart that leaps was | 
| put there by the love that we share. | 
| The peace I feel as you pass me by | 
| comes from knowing that she will be | 
| by my side for the rest of our days. | 
| There is grey in her hair | 
| and her body, like mine, | 
| bears the burden of years. | 
| But I see in her all the beauty | 
| you will ever have. | 
| Her delicate goodness brings forth | 
| prayers of gratitude from deep within | 
| my soul. | 
| Her fingers touch the ring that she gave me | 
| as a promise so many years ago. | 
| My love for her began with the touch of her hand. | 
| My nights are sweetened by the touch of her hand. | 
| The ring will shine with the purity of love | 
| until, moistened with her tears, she gently removes it | 
| from my lifeless hand. | 
| So with peace in my heart as I pass you by | 
| I smile and send a silent wish that you | 
| will know happiness like mine. | 
| Adeus, young beauty, | 
| Adeus. | 
 
 
        | A BLUE STONE | 
| It's not the thing, | 
| It's the experiencing of the thing | 
| that matters. | 
| We (all living beings) are channels | 
| of experience emerging from the ocean of | 
| collective experience. | 
| Without any effort, we are constantly | 
| directing experience downward into that ocean. | 
| Our state of evolution reflects and depends | 
| on our ability to channel experience | 
| upward from that ocean into | 
| our interactions with each other and with nature. . | 
| The latter requires effort - | 
| it is the great work | 
| of which we are all a part. . | 
| Today I put a blue stone around my neck | 
| to remind me of the ocean from which we come | 
| and of the work yet to be done. | 
 <
  <
        | ON THE WAY HOME | 
| The orange sun rising through the mist | 
| over the bay of Nice- the Cote d'Azur. | 
| Paris hidden in a soggy grey blanket | 
| of pounding rain. | 
| A silken thread high above a wind | 
| sculpted world of cloudy purity and | 
| the textured surface of the mighty ocean. | 
| Ice flows and bergs migrating southward | 
| to subtle extinction. | 
 
 
        | NEWS OF A SHOOTING | 
| Human blood has been spilled on | 
| the mountain once again. | 
| The cold hand of death | 
| clutching the carmine snow. | 
| Sunshine shivers, | 
| the raven shadows the | 
| sadness below. | 
 
  
        
        | LONELINESS | 
| He stood nose against the glass | 
| Staring in the dark at "la vie en face" | 
| Smelling the dust in the curtains | 
| Thinking of sunshine. | 
| Dark icy death whispering beneath the bridge, | 
| He longed to hear a lover's sigh. | 
 
 
        | A FUTURE? Goals: | 
| * Microprocessor Based Photovoltaic Energy Management Systems | 
| * Synthesis (through poetry?) | 
| *Poetry (through synthesis?) | 
| *Be at home with the Lady of the Mountain | 
| *Let go. | 
| Images: | 
| *Creation of work, wealth, community | 
| *Self awareness, growth | 
| *Home, love, loving, intimacy | 
| *Wings | 
 
 
        | RESEARCH | 
| The hunter in the cyclotron's mazes | 
| caught in the trap of the hunt | 
| quickens his pace | 
| sensing the kill. | 
 
 
        | CLEANSING | 
| Like water washing over a stone | 
| Feelings and emotions wash over my Self. | 
| Today, anger swirled over me | 
| Old angers - bubbling their way from | 
| deep in my past. | 
| The other day, fear shivered over me | 
| Old fears- gurgling up from | 
| deep in my dreams. | 
| Tomorrow, they will be whispering | 
| their way to the sea. | 
 
 
        | EYES | 
| I am a little bubble of I-ness | 
| in a sea of Thou-ness | 
| A bubble of darkness in an ocean | 
| of lightness. | 
| A single living cell with a membrane | 
| Separating I-ness and Thou-ness. | 
| There are irises in the | 
| eyes of my membrane. | 
 
 
        | TIPI | 
| Here in the lonely spaces | 
| is where I come into being- | 
| slowly, painfully, joyfully. | 
| Wings wet and limp | 
| dry in New Mexico sun. | 
| Chrysalis is a very | 
| private matter. | 
 
  
        
        | GAME OVER | 
| The drama of most of my life | 
| has been the sound and fury | 
| of my (instinctive) trust in Awareness | 
| battling my distrust of instinct. | 
| Stalemated. | 
| This meaningless game is | 
| for me, I hope, finished | 
| forever. | 
 
 
        | SWEETHEARTS | 
| A small cardbord box of candy hearts | 
| Pull one out. See what it says. | 
| A white "Bye Bye", | 
| No. Not that one. | 
| A carmen "Kiss Me", | 
| Keep going. | 
| A yellow "Drop It", | 
| Again, try for another. | 
| A small rose heart sings "Sure Love". | 
| Yes . That's the one. | 
| Come on, friend. Put your hand in here. | 
| Pull one out. | 
| See what it says. | 
 
 
        | FALCON | 
| Lying in the lair of the falcon | 
| the hunter dreamt of the eagle. | 
| The little bird stirred in her sleep | 
| and he awakened to her presence. | 
| The torn heart stirred in his breast | 
| as he soothed her brave and beautiful | 
| body with light and grateful touch. | 
| The memory of their wounding | 
| was upon them both | 
| yet both strained eager | 
| for the coming hunt. | 
| He had no need of eagles. | 
| The land where eagles dwell | 
| is too barren to hunt. | 
| And the eagle flies | 
| only for himself. | 
 
 
        | 50 YEARS AGO ON THE BBC | 
| A king's voice | 
| searching heaven's heights | 
| bounces, | 
| breaking back | 
| to the isle | 
| glowing green | 
| against the dark | 
| rolling sea. | 
| Startled, the humans below | 
| for the first time feel | 
| bound into one thought | 
| one mind and folk. | 
| Hearing for the first time | 
| all as one but alone | 
| the voice of the one | 
| they call the king. | 
| The voice spoke | 
| only with the sounds of common earth | 
| and echoed not giant's talk | 
| or dragon's fiery roar. | 
| The people of the island | 
| wondered at the weakness, | 
| searching new strength. | 
| The singing sword sighs into rust | 
| on the cold castle floor. | 
 
 
        | GOLDEN | 
| Xanthe blowing curls | 
| gleaming in the dim light of the moon. | 
| Xanthe stalks the streets | 
| of the ancient city | 
| seeking her way. | 
| Her feet still recall the hot | 
| sucking sands of the new world | 
| where the sun sparkled Xanthe on the sea. | 
| Her loins feel still | 
| the throbbing rythm of raw drums | 
| and frenzied hands | 
| while a hot Xanthe sun | 
| rose high in a cloudless sky. | 
 
 
        | HENRY MILLER: Short Story | 
| Full Fuck | 
| Feel Fuck | 
| Fall Fuck | 
| Fool Fuck | 
| No! Yes! | 
| Fell Fuck | 
| Felt Fuck | 
| Filling Fuck | 
| Fine Fuck | 
| FIN | 
 
 
        | CAPTAIN | 
| Silken skin, | 
| Soft | 
| Dancing eyes, | 
| Deep | 
| Budding breast, | 
| Firm | 
| Small body, | 
| Proud | 
| Happy laugh, | 
| Warm | 
| Your smile is my command. | 
 
 
        | NOW | 
| The hunter hunts | 
| A tree grows tall in Paris | 
| A white thread melts in the sky. | 
| A small wounded falcon | 
| preens gently her bright coat | 
| resting on the strong green arms. | 
| The tree sighs with joy | 
| the hunter holds his breath | 
| the thread spins into thin clouds. | 
 
 
        | DIVORCE | 
| Sister to my life, | 
| can you think of the pain | 
| you bring to my life? | 
| Can your heart be so hard | 
| standing before the doors of your soul - on guard, | 
| to not let pass a single thought | 
| of the passage of your brother's soul? | 
| If your heart could yield, | 
| could your soul bear the sound of my screams? | 
| Your soul is lighter and gayer than mine, | 
| that shivers in horror | 
| at even the memory | 
| of your tear's gentle streams. | 
| Can you think of the pain? | 
| In a few days of quick, dizzy, dancing time | 
| two children of my soul | 
| will leave the warmth of our bonds | 
| and the home made and warmed by those bonds | 
| to live in an estranger's house. | 
| For the fourth petrified time, | 
| they will leave the intimacy of my embrace | 
| while my soul helplessly watches | 
| the vision and incense of their presence | 
| become lost in the milling mass of strangers. | 
| For the fourth petrifying time | 
| their gentle lives will be wrapped in fragile metal | 
| and they will be cast into the sky | 
| to fly away from me | 
| faster than the winds, high above the hills. | 
| For the fourth terrible time | 
| my soul will stagger | 
| with the tearing, sickening grief | 
| that is expected and accepted | 
| and that never weakens. | 
| Can I bear the pain? | 
| You cannot think of it. | 
| Your need has caused it to be so. | 
 
 
        | HUNTER | 
| I am a hunter, | 
| not a gatherer | 
| or tender of fires and shelter, | 
| but a hunter. | 
| And my home | 
| is the home of a hunter. | 
| It should be light | 
| air-like and filled with the | 
| excitement of the hunt. | 
| The people who live in that home | 
| should feel pride | 
| that they live and love | 
| with a hunter. | 
| A man who takes risks | 
| to master his grounds, | 
| to make the fearful | 
| - a provider of food, | 
| to find the way to new grounds | 
| when his people have need. | 
| The hunter is special | 
| to his people | 
| because he is willing to take risks. | 
| His strength is visible | 
| to his people | 
| by the dangers he faces and overcomes | 
| and their vision is proud. | 
| Some years ago | 
| I stopped being a hunter | 
| and became a gatherer - | 
| to gather green grain for a distant day | 
| when I feared my strength would be low | 
| and my people's need would be great. | 
| But I forgot my people | 
| were a hunter's people | 
| they cannot be at peace | 
| with the mind of a gatherer. | 
| After he hunts again | 
| the hunter will come home. | 
