Poetry of Life is a Rhyming Slang of Self Reflection

A MOMENT OF REFLECTION

Do you feel the wind in the willows?
Or perhaps the rustling of the reeds?
If you listen carefully the wind and the reed will come together,
To rekindle sounds of a distant cry,
A calling that swirls through the valleys, the streams and the trees,
A yearning for love that calls to all in the silence of their dream,
Across the cool night blanket,
It folds back time,
As the blanket of stars,
Reveals its naked past staring,
Blinking light years of time,
Across another page
Of history.

There is his-story,
There is her-story,
There is collective memory,
That is unforgettable in the dreaming
Of time,
For time is a fabric which folds and bends in the dance of fate,
And each life is a thread, a bead looming larger than life,
For this is a magic carpet that can fly,
Indeed a tapestry carefully constructed,
When unravelled reveals only the one thread,
That interweaves all lives,
Unique patterns unfolding a matrix,
Yet cut to the same cloth at Turin,
Made as a comedy of errors,
For the imperfection,
Is the perfection in the process,
When one sees the fault
Is on purpose.

Who are YOU?
Are you your job?
Are you your name?
A man or a woman?
Educated or poor?
Attractive or unseen?
Are you young or old?
Are you warm or cold?
Are you up or down?
WHO are you?

Are you the mirror or the reflection?
Reflecting the meaning of life,
Or a life in search of meaning?
What is truth but a decision that makes common sense.

What of non sense?
Should that be discarded or shall you await your moment of truth naked?
In each moment perfection exists,
Even in the darkest moments,
There is a candle silently swaying,
Sensitive only to the currents of love,
Yet alight and alive,
And when it waxes lyrical it shines for the whole time,
For the song of life is the reed calling out to you to return home to what is real,
To find your real meaning in the depths of the search,
For when you seek you will find
without question,
The sublime becomes ridiculous,
It becomes possible to turn water into wine,
Reverse osmosis,
And this is the elixir,
This is the alchemy,
That is the beauty of life itself,
Shining back in the reflection of your wise eyes.

Do not become anxious in this time,
For there has been a long lineage of those who believe the world is flat,
The earth flying in space was nonsense,
Yet much depends on changing the way we see new meanings,
For the poetry of life is a rhyming slang,
That uses metaphor rather than description,
Allows knowledge to flow as a stream without interruption,
Seeing symbolism rather than facts as cues,
For meaning is not always common sense,
It is the sense to look for what is uncommon,
And this is the uncommon dialogue,
That speaks when you are listening,
When you become a silent spring,
An open flower,
Awaiting the illumination of nature,
That shines for those who see to look,
That there is a way home,
For the light is always on,
As the love of your life awaits your return.