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Tamara Lynn Scott |
What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?
William Blake
Whirl is king
Aristophanes
“Jumping into hyperspace ain't like dustin' crops, boy.”
Han Solo, another galaxy
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© Copyright 2002 – 2009
Michael Edward McNeil
Impearls
Item page — this may be a chapter or subsection of a larger work. Click on link to access entire piece.
Earthdate 2003-01-12
We have seen the highest circle of spiraling powers.
We have named this circle God.
We might have given it any other name we wished:
Abyss, Mystery, Absolute Darkness, Absolute Light, Matter, Spirit, Ultimate Hope, Ultimate Despair, Silence.
Nikos Kazantzakis, 1948
There is a ship
that always rides into,
your dreams,
your soul,
the heart of you,
where you always go,
to the land you sail.
There's a part of you that's never free
of what has been,
seen so selectively,
of mind enslaved,
of never freed,
the long dead past,
no complicity,
no hand,
of distant,
victim us,
and living perpetrators,
the all,
the them,
I,
Us,
and Them.
Some call it "White".
Some call it "Black".
Some call it "American".
Some call it "Ben Laden".
Some call it "Arab".
Some call it "Power".
Some call it "Oil".
Some call it "Bush".
Some call it "Blame".
Some call it "Republican".
Some call it "Democrat".
Some call it "Money".
Some call it "Gain".
Some call it "Whatever they want".
Some cry out loud
for what they think they've never had.
for what they believe,
backed up with
the stamp of God,
Mohammed,
Allah,
Justice,
Freedom,
Jesus Christ,
Jehovah.
All blamed for the fight,
raging in the breast,
the Wound,
the Beast.
Loose in every eye,
raged in sanctimony,
for what must live,
and what must die,
and who must fall,
and who must try,
and who is sinful,
and who must pay,
and who is sinless,
and who has say.
and who is judge,
and who is wise.
and who gets the resources,
who has to work,
who has to fight.
Alone,
the spirit cries,
this is the fall,
the hell.
Egged on
to hold another accountable for,
the person that you are,
the rise,
the fall.
Within the heart,
is the heart of all.
Yet in blindness we remain.
For none has the key to lift you up,
none has the words to set you free.
The magic must be
within.
To the beginnings of all eternity,
where the seed takes start,
to where the whole takes wind,
perfection,
in and of
all that is,
to perfect place,
perfect give,
to all create,
pushing to make,
each more perfect,
each more friend,
to freedom of create.
to all receive
exactly what they've made,
To all can be
what is given soul to shape,
worlds and levels of all you conceive.
Mind and heart give to each,
the god you serve.
There is a ship
that is always sailing,
out of the darkness
into the light,
into new freedom,
new arrive,
new up,
new right,
future place.
Some call it "Love".
Some call it "Hate".
Perfection of being,
you get
what you are,
what you create.
There is a ship
comes sailing in,
on Christmas day
in the morning,
of light,
and hope,
of heart,
and see,
of new born belief.
There is a ship.
© Copyright 2002, 2003
Tamara Lynn Scott.
Published by permission of author.
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