Home Page |
What is ACIM? |
Information on ACIM |
My Articles on ACIM |
My Books & Audio Materials |
Workshops |
Related Material |
Poetry and Quotations |
Healing |
- |
POEMS
written by Minette Quick
- evoked by study of A Course in Miracles
(For details of Minette's music CD please visit Solas Bhride or contact her at quick.minette@gmail.com)
REFUSAL I have not been accepting myself today. I have dug in my heels and refused today. I have said I won't trade I won't budge today, And I'm guilty as hell all the way today. What brought all this on it's hard to say, A feeling of turning my mind away, Of finding some prejudice rearing its head. When it came to the crunch, it was "No' that I said. Saying "No" feels quite bad, I'm defending again, Feeling the doors being shut again. But somehow attraction is strong to be sad To jerk about crossly and interact. It's hard not to judge when you feel this way. Hard to accept that you want it this way, For you must, or you wouldn't be feeling this way All this pain is a choice, strange to say. Its removal is something I can't do alone. I can honestly say that I'd rather go Home Than gnaw like a dog at a meatless bone And growl at all comers to "LEAVE ME ALONE" On quiet reflection I'm tired of the pain, It isn't such hot stuff apportioning blame... To myself or to others - it's really the same. Then the help that I asked for JUST CAME! FORGIVENESS IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK Forgiveness is not what you think It's not separate "thinking" at all. It's not searching for something that's wrong "to forgive" That's not forgiveness at all. Forgiveness, the key to happiness Is knowing that nothing is wrong. It's knowing that only in dreams "things go wrong" It's changing the words and changing the tune Of that dreary old dirge of a song. For there's: No-one to blame No-one to shame No-one to suffer a wrong Forgiveness is not what you think It's not separate "thinking" at all. Its not searching for something that's wrong "to forgive" That's not forgiveness at all. FREEDOM AT LAST Truth is the answer, the question is doubt, Illusion attempting to blot Heaven out. Truth never wavers or changes or seems To be anything limited, painful or mean. It simply is everything spiritually seen Pure and untainted, innocent, clean. Truth is the traveller, the journey, the way. Its steps never falter by night or by day. Its goal the beginning, the middle, the end Of all life here on earth, Never fails, dearest friend! "Truth will correct all errors in my mind" - from A Course in Miracles A FLICKERING CANDLE SHOW Illness is an attack upon the truth That I am changeless and like God. It is an attack on truth itself Which is God. It is a defence against God's supposed attack on me God's punishment of my "unforgivable sin" My belief that I am worthy of punishment By God, and that no suffering is too much To pay for what I have done to Him. And yet I have not "sinned" at all I never left His side! This dreary catalogue of crime Escaped His conscious mind Despite all efforts I have made To leave and then to hide, He smiles at me, beside Him still He sees no cause for sighs! My heart is full of JOY not pain My mind of PEACE not "sin" I radiate His LIGHT around I let His GLORY in. My brothers need to know it's true They need to know it too They've not betrayed their inner bond Or strayed away from Him Unchanging we have never left The home we share with Him! His heart is full of JOY not pain His mind of PEACE not "sin'' He radiates His LIGHT around He lets His GLORY in. This outer world of darkness is A flickering candle show Where little light and shadows deep Perpetuate illusion's supposition grim That projection can at least provide Some slight, though brief protection From the fears I entertain. Our hearts are full of JOY not pain Our minds of PEACE not "sin" We radiate His LIGHT around We let His GLORY in! BATS IN THE BELFRY The constant yammer The constant clamour Of voices goes unchecked. Until we sense Their urgent sense Our state of mind dejects. Their words fly round Their zigzag path A wild careering flight Confined, within a darkened cave Like bats, Those creatures of the night. And when we wake The pains we feel Within that inner space, Exhaustion stalks Behind our eyes The tension on our face. The bats are my thoughts, The belfry is my head, The bells lie still While bats fly round. BELOVED FATHER Beloved Father hear my prayer! I thank you for your loving care, For gifts and gentle help to let me see I need not suffer pain eternally. Your will is freedom, perfect peace New ways to learn, new ways to teach. New joy, new forms need not repeat Expressing truth Your Spirit guides my erring feet. BELOVED ONE! Beloved one, Beloved one, calm yourself, be still! Contain yourself within a while Upon your lips a smile! Release the whirl of words that fill The air with gestures wild. They only serve to agitate Your mind, whose nature's peace. Peace is a state that only comes Within a constant will for it And all it brings - Abundance, gentleness and love, Serenity and joy borne up On spiritual wings. Peace never can be fought for, Strife is not its child. Its nature is itself Quite free From concept of an enemy. Beloved one, Beloved one, calm yourself, be still! Exhaust not silence with your words, In peace your thought will flow Into a healing stream of truth Which other hearts will know. Desire to communicate you feel, Experience that Love Which holds us by the hand And lifts us tenderly Right up. BLESSED IS HE The real job in life Is not to see Ourselves as weak and feeble Suffering and sinful, But as glorious Sons of God! Ours is the choice To see ourselves Through the eyes of men Or God. He would not have us dream Our glory dimmed. He would not have us Thralled in sin. It is our choice, We can reclaim Our wondrous blrthright In His name. And blessed, As the psalmist says, Is He who cometh In that name, Not arrogant And full of pain By which we subtly State our claim He loves us not Within is one who knows Our state, His Holy Spirit knows it all. To ask His help is to restate Our willingness, however small To simply see another way And peace of mind recall. He does not fail Our hearts to soothe To reconstruct the scene. Before we know our call is heard There is a subtle change, And something shifts Within each one The evidence is plain. We can go on And we are strong Our minds are once more sane. CONFESSION I oft confess that I'm weak and sin, When I could confess that I'm strong, That my performance wasn't good at all, When there was nothing wrong. I try to hide my strength inside And bargain with some fear That what my Father made of me May somehow not appear. The time has come to brush aside Our "weakness" and our "sin" There is no feeble trace or dream at all That God can find within. Our Godself lives within intact In patience, mighty, strong. It waits for us to waken now. It's waited oh so long! And yet a single blink of an eye A turn of thought away From visions bleak Of passions deep, Can change - without a sigh! We are not lost within this dream, We are at home in God, We never slept at all, He knows His Son ne'er weeps nor sleeps. So what is going on, you say? That I awake each livelong day And creep from blind activity in dream To passing pageant's play? I, (sure as hell), know this is true... And yet it's not, I say For hell's own words describe it yet And that is why it fades. For nothing truth describes can fade For symbol it is not. It is itself, the love of God Exactly as He made. Confess again "I am His Child Creation perfect, pure, And joined as one with everyone, My mind is certain, sure That all my brothers feel my need To go back home as well. Each in his own way Judge him not, Is bound for heaven not hell." " Be traitor to no-one Or you will be treacherous to yourself" from the Song of Prayer (Supplement to A Course in Miracles) DELIVERANCE In praying for deliverance From your "wickedness" towards me, I see you as my sworn and constant Vicious enemy. In praying in terms of difference Of opposites, of strife, Of creeds and forms inimical I cannot know you as you are In truth at all. And thus I cry for vengeance for my pain For payment is the ego's call. And who will pay the price of "sin" The one without, the one within? The crushing blows of punishment Rain down and ricochet in waves That drive from shore to shore, For punishment is also war It rights no wrongs and soothes no sores. But who will gain from causing pain? Imagination roars "Give me my due", But you will lose, Yes, you will lose. For peace and light and joy are Gods And no-one's here whom He loves not. When we can recognise our part In healing is, we'd rather not Blame anyone, our strife will stop. Our prayers for pain are masked in strain Mistrust and guilt are interlocked. "We go together, you and I" Our prayer should always be. "Release the present from its chains Of past illusions", free all pain. The peace of God the answer is "A freely-chosen remedy'' Relinquish judgement then and see How peace descends immediately And wraps us in repose at last In tender, sweet humility. FROM ILLNESSES' DISQUIETING STATE .... From illnesses' disquieting state We beg release, We pray, we pray. But fear itself perpetuates Solidifies and makes doubt strong Cements by pouring anguish on. Projection is a thought believed In here, within the heart Then thrust without as evidence As "sense" to prove it "true". Once placed without like bending bow Its arrow wings its way Its message sharp proclaims aloud You are to blame, to blame, To blame .... 0 cruel world, to blame. Correction gently comes along The self-same way to heal And where accusing weapons lie Softly sets its seal. Within the mind it places truth And whispers "think again" "Your Father loves you still within, You never from Him strayed, His peace and light and joy are yours No matter what you think. Receive them now, forgive the world, Let in a little chink Of LIGHT upon this inner world Distraught and full of fear." "Behold, within your sinless Self No "traitor" here abides. Your innocence and purity You simply once denied Still shines, is One and safe and free. Your changelessness is guaranteed By God Himself, His Son and Dear sweet Holy Spirit wise Who never once in all these years Departed from your side." And when you listen to His Voice And dare to think it TRUE To turn away from clamourous pain To walk in pastures new. A single moment will suffice To lift you up into new life To shift belief from ancient strife To let it go, to let it go .... And suddenly with colours true His bow will bend up in the blue Proclaiming light and joy and peace On earth before we are released Beyond this earthly dream we made As One our dreams of sorrow fade. GLORIOUS SONSHIP The guilty secret is the one Which aims to hide its Self, To turn its back upon the Son Whose wholeness unregarded Gathers dust upon the shelf. As if the glorious Sonship In the world Could ever be undone By fancied foolishness! Communication opens up The nature of the Son And blazes up the vision clear Of Christ in man as One. And ever joined in love Sustained by God the Father, Holy Spirit, Three in One. GUIDE TO LIGHT AND PEACE The light of the day is your own light, The awareness of the darkness is your own light, The joy of the day is your own light The peace of the day is your own light In the silence of mind Let your light shine, Let the whirring of words cease As you sink into peace. Go within, go within The body but reflects Your state of mind A mirror, showing gentleness, Peace and kindness, Agitation, fear and blindness Coursing through the alternating Currents of the mind. When your body wakes up aching Every muscle taut and shaking As you creep to start the day. It's the fruit of anxious dreaming Setting nerves and sinews screaming, Tense and irritable after hours away In the land of cruel illusion Unredeemed by kind conclusion Which would wake you gently Soothing pain away. But settle for a peaceful time of day For assistance to relax and wash away The effects of mental conflict. (Dreaming madly, strange things seem To happen to you, shadow boxing Insubstantial cloud formations .... But simply, surely will the pain Just ebb away.... The soft sweet sound of peace sings As you pray. A space arises in the mind The tension gone, the body's peaceful And you find The answer is within and not without The mind dictates experience, The body, no! GOING WITHIN Peace is a practice of going within To remembrance, connection, With everything, in! Not snail-like retracting From fear of the thrush Which would lift you up brusquely In one moment crush Your frail shell On its anvil That's not going in! "Going in" expands outwards, Ever beyond the boundary of body, Its more like a song Which refreshes a memory For which we long. Peace is a practice of going within To remembrance, connection With everything, in! HERE IN MY HEART HIS PEACE SINGS! Sweet is the present time, Now is the gentle time, Let all your thought fall away. Still in the morning light, Sounds of the wind outside, Here in my heart His peace Sings! Nothing opposes it, Tune in, repose in it, it is the source of joy, Sing! Solace of human grief, Spirit of unity, Drawing together all parts Loosing uncertainty, Rest is its sure release. Strength, joy and purity, Sing! "I AM THAT l AM' "I am that l am' Since the dawning of time, My truth still lies under the mask. It shines through my being Makes sense of my feelings No matter what seems to arise.... And what does truth mean in my life? You might ask, It makes all the difference indeed, If I base all my actions, decisions, reactions On a mish-mash of unresolved dreams. For It seems that I live in a world of mixed feelings Of thoughts that float in and then out, Of solid state clutter Which makes the heart flutter Whenever I try to get out. Yet, "I am that I am' Since the dawning of time, My truth still lies under the mask. It shines through my being Makes sense of my feelings Brings peace and sweet reason, No matter what seems to arise... IF I CORRECT YOU If I correct you I am wrong too When I try to impress you I am trying to escape An impression I have of myself .... When I resist you I am afraid Not of you alone But of my own vulnerability .... When I try to appease you It is my own wrath Which frightens me... When I oppose you I ignore My own peaceful truth. IN MY MIND'S EYE In my mind's eye, my body is A picture of myself Created mentally and held In seeming solid state Reflecting pain, desire for gain Expressed excess Expressed distress Mixed up emotions Conflicts plain Of guilt and shame, A frame for all to see In fleshly grossness, Broken vein and creaking joint A minefield of opinions laid To snare the unwary resident In its unyielding grasp. And yet this frame it need not be "For I am still as God created me" No picture am I, mean and small No walking canvas to appal! No musty image overlaid With darkness... Layers of cracking paint And varnish aged. I do not want my frame to be A symbol of success to me, Or yet of failure either. A neutral thing which serves me well, No source of pain or sorrow. At best a dream it can but help me on my way A scene of conflict it is not Made to deny it, with Holy Spirit's help, It can represent My Unity with God. I OFFER YOU I offer you what I would receive, Freedom to live and love, Freedom to be, Everything I ever hoped Could be true for me. Freedom from fear and pain, Freedom from hypocrisy. Nothing has to go right For me to be happy. People do not have To behave themselves For me to love them. I am free! The world is like a dog Guarding a meatless bone. Nothing pushes my buttons Except me, I am not a robot I am free! Let us not be Blind to the major themes, Themes of our thought. For it is these, These alone, Set the tone Of our life. I WAS AN UNWILLING STUDENT I was an unwilling student, I thought I had nothing to learn. I thought that I knew all the meanings That unfurled in my limited world. I thought that I knew what I wanted, I thought I had nothing to learn. The teacher a bundle of limits, The teacher a vessel of clay, The teacher outside me for ever, I pushed him and pushed him away. I felt in myself I was separate, Estranged and alone on the way, Believed it was like that for ever Trapped in a web I had made. What suddenly made such a difference? What suddenly made so much sense? What whispered within out of nowhere Saying "rest now, it's really okay." What said "You are ever beloved, Unblemished, unworthy of pain." What melted the fear on my heartstrings And took the dark burdens away? It was that dear, brightening message That presence of kindness that came, That whisked aside sorrow and heartache That brought about permanent change. That gently, so gently persuaded My mind to relinquish its pain Which I'd hugged to myself in rash judgements I'd distorted again and again. It made me a willing recipient Of wisdom, of love and not blame, That told me that nothing could ever Affect me .... My perfection is always the same. JESUS VOICE Why would I hurt you? Why would I lead you astray? I love you as I love myself. My heart is as fresh and gentle As the air on a summer's day Which caresses your limbs With its freedom Soothing your cares away. Who would not know that I love him? Who but a soul trapped within An illusion of wandering ever Far away in a concept of "sin'. But I know not a trace of dishonour in you, Not a crack nor a crevice within To dislodge my joyous perception We are totally joined within Him. JUSTICE AND FORGIVENESS The scales of justice cannot be A symbol of God's honesty For He weighs not in terms of "sin" Nor shuts the door against His Son To let just a part of Him come in. Oh for a way to rest in you Forgiveness all the time! Through prayer to rise up past the spite Of unfulfilled desires "to fight and gain" What vanishes in Light Because it isn't true. COMFORT AND HEALING Inspired by the Song of Prayer "One who prays without fear cannot but reach Him He can therefore also reach His Son wherever he may be and whatever form he may seem to take." I hold your hand in prayer Reaching out in love to you To calm your fear and reassure you Of your Father's care for you. In reaching up in certain trust Your simple faith may kindled be And I thank God that in His Christ Your true identity is found Which cannot fail or wanting be But shared throughout eternity. LIGHT AND LOVE When I close my lips and eyes My sense of self becomes a smile That ever widens out and radiates Within, without, around, about. I am a loving being, Certain friend Unto myself and unto you Oh dear one too, Most certain you! I lose that overbearing sense Of separation, taut and tense, I melt so gently, sweetly, gently, Into grace and ease, Awareness All is peace, Yes, all is peace! LOVE YOURSELF FIRST AT CHRISTMAS! "Love yourself first at Christmas" The words came through quite clear ... "Love yourself first this Christmas" Whispered in my ear. "For you are the one rejected, Secretly despised, However much loved by others By yourself not recognised." "Love yourself first, for Christmas Is the time of Christ, The time of new conceptions With which to live your life. The birth of new commitments To live in peace not strife." "Love yourself first, this Christmas, Whatever that means to you Be sure that you're kind to yourself, Never mind what you think That you ought to do." "Love yourself first, for Christmas Allow your own heart to glow, To bask in the warmth that you know When you feel that the spirit Of Christmas is real .... Begin with yourself It will grow! " MAKE ROOM FOR PEACE To make a burden out of life By listing every job As something to be done "somehow' Got through without a fuss, Is just a recipe for pain, Frustration, hardship, rush; For wondering where the hours went With little time for us. "I have so much to do today" The ancient legend runs. "I'll never get it done, oh dear!" "I'll never get it done." This recipe for killing joy Is simply based on fear Which has us powering on Through thick and thin Through yet another year. Stop for a moment,now and then Make room for peace Make time to breathe, Decide that all you really need To do is easily achieved! Everything can fall in place Can fit like hand in glove, We needn't strive to be alive Each hour is framed in love. A tiny step, a simple choice To trust within the quiet voice That says "be gentle with yourself And kind, release those ancient doubts From mind, dare to believe in peace!" Dare to believe creation's end Makes of each one a forgotten friend A companion on the way, A reflector of our ancient hate Sometimes, but faithful even then In that! By showing us reactions deep Which we have feared to face before Asleep. This is forgiveness. Rejoice it is so, We can awake! Our burdens and sorrows Are simply mistakes! To every involvement an antidote A certain cure is found Once we are willing And ask for help His Holy Spirit Turns us around. "MIRACLES ARE SEEN IN LIGHT" * There is no darkness But the darkness of the mind. There is no problem that is not Solved within the self-same mind. For we are Spirit, bright indeed With brilliance from God. His Light enlightens us and gives His strength to meet our every need. In darkness weakness rears its head And fools us it is strong. We see our fears of failure written up In each despairing song. The burdens loom like shadow's gloom Which lengthen in our wake. But past are they, and fall behind The light shows up but one mistake, Belief that we are dark and weak Alone and full of sin Of fear and frailty covered o'er With armour much too thin To cover long the parlous state We seem to fear we're in. It is not true that I and you Are what we seem to be. Our strength is light, Our state is bright. The darkness that I see in you Is really what I fear is true In me, but dare not look at long Because I fear the pain Of struggling with its strong Accusing chains. The chains are made of painful words, Linked up and locked together. Evidence against God's Son That he has somehow severed His connection with His Father dear. His guilt attracts him ever. But shine one shaft of loving light Upon this scene of fear and fright Remember "Miracles are seen in light" And darkness flees before my sight. There's been a change of weather! * A Course in Miracles - title of Lesson 91 |
SISTER
DEAR Forgiveness is my sister dear Jesus told me this is so - And so I love her tenderly Remembering she shares with prayer A sacred function in my life Unlocking frozen pain and fear Repressed beneath my conscious mind In attitudes which curb and bind. So many things were "law" to me The taint of right and wrong The slightest hint of difference Unleashed my judgement's edge. And cutting deep I'd comments keep On everybody's head To hold against them if they dared To threaten my serenity. But she my sister soon did show That this was hurting me. The trouble lay not there with them But deep inside of me. The slightest pang of discontent Reaction to events, Unknown to me was pointing not Out there at all But showed that I believed in "sin" Enshrined within forever since the "fall". Each niggling pain forgiveness came To gently rearrange. Relentless hate I'd harboured changed Another world I viewed. The painful "truth" about us all The barricades against recall That I had feared to view Receded drop by drop each day As I became aware of you My loving sister new. Like gentle dew at morning found Bestowed upon unyielding ground She came to softly rain Release upon me too. In face of parched hard judgement I would hear Her ask permission in my ear To help me reconsider .... Reconsider painful "facts" and briefly wonder whether They were facts at all or even hard-edged bigotry. And so I'd look forgiveness' way And find within my mind Thoughts like little bits of glass Broken into slivers, Fragments of fear embedded deep Which set my heart a-quiver. She gently urged me not to fear But look again and see If I could just mistaken be. Perhaps my brother just like me Could still be viewed quite peacefully And seen another way. Another way which absolved blame. Perhaps he acted out of pain. And so she turned harsh judgement's blade Which pointed at my brother, And showed it pointed then at me Unless I wanted to be free From it myself, and asked her help. "Would you accuse yourself of this?" She said, "Forgive yourself again. Your hatred of yourself this is Not judgement's just revenge." And so l did and,lo ....! The pain which was but cover Was straightway gone and wondrously Still lovable my brother! For accusations of myself I'd mirrored in him plain As "sin" and cankering offence Which thought swore could not ever be Removed or recompensed - were gone! Forgiveness set her brothers free As equals and as friends. And now by sweet reflection I could see That he was innocent as me... This change of mind is gentle, kind Corrects the pain within And leaves a space for peace and grace To enter in, to enter in...! Inspired by the Song of Prayer and A Course in Miracles a line of which is quoted above SINGING A SONG OF SORROW In this mood all I want is to go to my room Close the door and sink down, further down, into gloom, Creep right under the covers, protected, alone, With no-one to bug me, I'm here on my own. Isolated and brimming with self-righteous rage, I reflect on my grievances over again. Chorus: I'm singing a song of sorrow, the pillow is over my head, I'm singing of "Nobody loves me, or cares if I'm living or dead". It's a song of perverted justice, "Did you hear what that bastard just said...?" "I certainly didn't deserve it, I'll never forgive what he said." My stomach is heavy and churning, There's a pounding of blood in my head, My body is really reacting, I think that I'll stay here in bed. But it's strange how describing in detail my plight, Seems to bring it all into a different light. I suddenly realise what's going on The sound of this "sorrow' is simply a song Of unmerited suffering, uncalled for pain, The "daemon' has got me going again! This vision of living a-wallow in crime Isn't giving much space for renewal of mind!! Perversely enjoying this season of sorrow The way it pervades every bone to the marrow, I hug it and savour its bitter-sweet flavour. It's strange how much pleasure I take in behaviour I find so repugnant in someone quite other - than I am... OLD ADAM LIES A-SLEEPING .... Old Adam lies a-sleeping, A-sleeping on the ground. His bonds are airy nothing, Thoughts around him tightly bound. But who is this a whispering A whispering in his ear? A gentle voice is speaking low "Time to wake up, my dear!" He stirs, he starts, He rubs his head. His pillow is not stone, A feather bed replaces briers. He is not alone! And is this Eve, this woman here Who led him once astray? Her troubled face has been replaced By sweet delight instead. Where have we been? Where are we now? They look around them both In wonderment, though sleepy still To believe it they are loath. Surrounding them on every side Are trees of beauteous kinds, And ministering angels call, Offering cups of wine. And what this wine significates Is joy and peace unspoilt, On tables unforbidden fruit Is laid out rich in piles. Smiles replace their grim dream now And soon they see right well. The choice is theirs to meditate On heaven's dream not hell. And so eventually all dreams Shall pass from everyone. Perhaps sooner they may come Through miracles, If we but change our minds. At each one's choice Angels rejoice And we'll rejoice with them As they awake for heaven's sake Forsaking dreams of conflict sore While safely home in bed! PANIC As ever I panic I think it has gone! But it hasn't It didn't! I merely supposed... "Nothing went wrong Right under your nose!" Its that ancient old story Of sorrow and pain That tricks us by saying "Believe ME" again. Every time I remember And experience Peace From the memory Comes instant and blessed release. "Heaven is the decision I must make" Look again "lady' for Heaven's sake! Decide to be happy You'll see how it goes As miracles happen Right under your nose! PINCERS OF DEATH Protestations of pigeon-holed people That they're less than God made them Are grand at a distance from me... And its easy to cope With their pain feeling sane, Offering "comfort', concealing disdain. As if you are somehow beyond it Can dispense words of wisdom To dispel foolish notions of blame. But the panicky note Clutching now at my throat Knocks the ground from beneath my feet. There's no rock there but sand Shifting, sinking, demands That I trembling descend to my knees. The pincers of death are upon me, Their words are scorching my breath, Rising up from within, Come to haunt and to taunt me With visions and feelings of sin. They imply I am basically guilty, Place the mark of the demon on me. Their jaws hold me tight In their grasp through the night, I twist and turn, helpless it seems. I struggle and fight against bondage My spiritual innocence seek. I have taken the lure But the one simple cure Is not conflict but peaceful retreat. To the place where reassurance unbounded Whispers softly "Believe not these fears", "You are God's child, Not a foul guilty traitor, And He loves you continuously." ROOM FOR PEACE (extract) Our minds are focussed on the Middle East There is no time or room for peace, The monster war is blown up in our minds. A robin sings as darkness falls, I stand beneath the tree, And see his outline small reverberate With his shrill song. He little knows of tanks or bombs But we have seen him fight for fat, In fierce assault small birds attack, His territorial rights exact. Yet surely war is not our final fate, This Ireland of ancient "Land of anger", living still in semi-solid state. But where within this land in truth Can peace reside but in ourselves, The place the thought takes root. The place for peace is anywhere That we decide to give it room, To practise putting on one side Our grim preoccupations' gloom. Those ancient scores, those running sores Keep pointing out, not in, And must be reinforced each day In case we tire of them And let them go, forget to tell Their story to the world. Forget to raise our voices high In fruitless protestation. Forget to fan the embers on Through successive generations. And yet the world to Ireland comes For peace and sense of place, For quietness, identity, For friendliness and lack of haste. Ireland by many far away beloved, They feel at home when here, Feel spiritual kith and kin Of ours as we respond to them. It all depends which way you look The picture that you see, And in the end it all depends On what you want to see. Love is the place where hatred ends, Its hold is ebbing slowly from our hearts, The only place where bitterness Can finally depart. Is there room for peace in a war-torn world? Is the daily round just toil? Is there no place where love can live To bind together and pour in oil? (January 1991) SETTLING A SEASON I read the words but as I gaze My mind skids off across the page, My eyes are tired and feeling strain As the focus skips from phrase to phrase. Why is my ego on the run? Is the tone of the book some familiar sound Diagnosing the problem without turning it round? Its stirring in me an ancient hate, Its just mildly censorial, that's all, But it grates. I close my eyes, but behind the lids In flickering bursts the movement still skids. In an instant I settle aware of what is, I've been seeking without when the trouble's within. At least I know now I can keep it in view, Not fight it but follow its passage right through, Stay with it, no struggle or overt restraint, No need to interpret or try to escape. The shifting and throbbing are settling down, The flickering focuses into a throb, in my lip Which is beating in time with my heart. To be with these feelings and know it is safe Is the true door to freedom, to gently awake. Harmony enters, slips peacefully in. Waiting and watching and knowing to stay Is to welcome the stranger turned often away Out of fear, but this stranger is offering a gift Receive it and bless him all sorrow will shift. These feelings oft buried are a deep longing prayer For the love that is waiting behind them, right there. Settling a season, just going within And not fighting those feelings is not giving in But transforming all sorrow in a wondrous way With the help of the Spirit, A gentle new way. "TAKE THIS HEART OF MINE" .... He said Take this heart of mine and offer it For everyone to hear Through the sweetness of its music Its joy will make it dear. Play it very softly' Sometimes play it slow, Play it very gently, Sometimes play it low Played with generosity The heart of love is known. Take this peace of mine and share it Spread it far and spread it near Its lilting rhythms dancing Keep it ever in your ear. Exchanging happy glances As on life's path you go This peace will grow in kindness Clear to everyone you know. Keep this heart of mine beside you As your friend and faithful guide. My words will never hurt you Or lead you into fear, My words will simply help you when you need a loving hand To sustain you, point you, guide you Back to Heaven through this land! Take this heart of mine and sing with it, My Joy is oft unknown Its laughter needs a voice to sound aloud Its strength that can't be bound. Who needs the voice of sorrow still He hears that every day! Let my life and love shine through you As you walk along the way With a light and airy footstep Knowing weight upon the ground Is but a mere illusion Like a scowl or a frown That passes like a shadow In the sweet refreshing rain Of the presence of a lover Whom we recognise again. Dear God, we are your children Feel your love and we rejoice We answer deep within us To the comfort of your voice For its music stirs a memory Of being loved and safe. Totally surrounded with your light We are not insane! THE DOLDRUMS OF SPIRIT The doldrums of spirit are upon me, The feelings of stagnant and slow. The moods of a day, Often settle and stay Until I resolve I will blow them away No space in my spirit for rejoicing. Resistance empowers the dull, Makes a cold heavy fog of emotion, Leaves the spirit unwilling to play. Like moss on a log I will hold on, I will spring back when trodden upon. I will find some resilience from inside And emerge once again as I may. I will sing a sweet song, knowing maybe The spirit that's willing can win, That the spirit that wants it Can shine of itself And can throw off its notion of sin. THE GOAL IS GOD The goal is God, indeed. The means but serve that goal. The chair in which I sit to meditate Supports my need for love As does the cup I lift to slake My thirst for sustenance from God. Consideration of the form Of chair or cup May have symbolic strength for me And yet another may not feel that need, Indeed may even drink direct With cupped hands from the stream Or kneel upon the ground To feel his nearness unto God. We love the forms we have instilled With deep significance, Traditions strength lies in belief And in our deep content Those forms do serve Our primal goal And thus are heaven sent. And so are other forms as well Beliefs we find quite strange If we could rest in their embrace We'd doubtless find Our aim was still sustained. That we cannot in them believe Does not invalidate Their truth to those Whose path to love May not to us seem straight But gently down our inner path We make our halting ways, And little detours make it seems Which often clear away Those individual obstacles we need to loose. They go without our knowing Just how wise Our inner guide has been untangling the maze of dreams Created in our minds. So let us not become entrenched In deep theology, In conflict over God's design In using different cups and spoons To feed our hearts desire But lift our hearts by every means We find does faith inspire. If that belief makes your road plain By all means pass it on! If it can cheer another heart Its purpose must be one with God's Which is His precious Son is freed From burdens self-imposed, And in that moment rests as One That One that Heaven knows! THE IMPOSSIBLE BELIEF I believe that a part of me's missing, I believe I've a hole inside. I believe it's been taken My faith has been shaken In you I'm mistaken Now for my life I must fight. But this attitude craven An image is graven, An inimical dream about life. What God has created Can never be shaken Or threatened or cut with a knife. Belief in perfection Restores our protection From crazy distortions and strife. This world's a projection Of defective perceptions A shadow obscuring the light. Acknowledge your power God gave us that power To extend the perfection He gave. To believe imperfection Simply changes direction And makes mere illusions seem grave. The free will He gave us Can certainly save us If He can persuade us within To accept the Atonement Which wipes out in each moment Our misgivings, discomfort, chagrin. To get to the root Of each trouble, in truth Is delightful not terrifying, For when we discover Old beliefs have no power We will laugh at the concept of sin. Old Adam can wake up! At last he can shake up Those lumpy hard pillows And grin! Take a look round the garden The apple's been pardoned The "lies of the serpent" within Were untrue and mistaken Then dreamed all along by him. No tree has the knowledge In its fruit or its foliage Of anything outside of you. If you eat of its fruit Your belief extends "oot" But the dreamer, Beloved, Is you! "TURMOIL BORN OF CLASHING DREAMS" "Turmoil born of clashing dreams" Conflicts' ground of changing scenes. Common sense gives some release Certainty brings gentle peace Amidst the noise frustration raised, A simple thought appeared beneath my gaze, Awareness of futility of acting from hostility. Actions based on ancient bargains Sacrificial notions hardened By intent to kill not save Never were nor never will be Anything but hatred.... Maybe, if I clearly see And want to change my state And am prepared to give, forgive The thoughts of things I thought you did.... Maybe there could be a better way for me. My prison is within my mind That is what I really find When I look within, A solid state, a frozen mass, Of habit, skeletal and stuck In ancient forms, And yet not finally convincing For I know that there is something better As once inspired, impassioned, years ago I boldly stated thus, that God Himself Could surely not be less than Greater than the greatest Which we could conceive of in ourselves. By greatest I implied all that is good And generous, and kind, Beloved of all and fine, sublime! This reasoning divine could not be Refuted now or then - if God Whose creations we ourselves are, Be not capable of just perfection, Neither could we then conceive of such a thing. So God must all perfection be And we creators of imperfect form. No rather say "of forms" for forms Do speak of limits and particulars. Perfection cannot hold in finite form Only in mind can it be even hinted at. And imperfection cannot be but dream For we being His cannot be different from Him! * from a A Course in Miracles UNDER THREAT OF WAR If this problem can be solved Tell me now, by whom? By Arab? Christian? Muslim? Jew? My warring self, whatever shape, Reflected is in you. Questions of conflict Thoughts inflamed Of race, religion, politics, All devolve on attitude. Through varying forms chameleon-like We each take up our view, And then it seems our different screens Of thought drive mighty beams Of ancient oak between us two. If this problem must be solved I must solve it too with you My black and white and yellow self, My red and brown self too: My fair and dark skinned, Blonde, brunette or even blue! The Hindus know their Krishna dear Depicted dancing with his flute Delicately veined his skin As well was blue. Our gods and objects of our love Are very varied in their hue. Our doctrines, dear unto our hearts Divide our oneness into twos And drag our gentleness divine Into that other realm Where brother hates and factions war And grievances are borne Over the edge of death's dark rim, And held in mind, Intent on settling scores. Its all a question of just how We'd rather have it be... A horror wave or simply something To discuss in honour with civility. To fear the worst or look beyond To something out of sight Of fixed perception's outer view But clearly there to one who penetrates The hidden causes cease to fight. If you're a pawn and I'm a knight We're playing games with rules, But what we fear is at the end The rules will force the hand of fools To violence whose limits stretch Beyond imagination's bent To satisfy the crazy thought Of tyrants' arrogance. Our dreams we take so seriously Are like a game of draughts. We move the pieces, and set up Our complex lives, charades... Each action represents some thought We hold within and then project upon the world without Our brother whom we are convinced Has motives sinister within Is seen upon our inner space As representing painful splits Our psyche fears to deem Our own, originating in our minds Incriminating everyone For fear the blame is ours alone And we could not withstand the pain Of what we've done The lies we've told, The wrongs that we've conceived And carried out. We must project and twist The blame out there on him. And what if we are not to blame, Our earthly life a sham, With no eternal cost or loss The earth a temporary form Of clouds....? And Shakespeare's words were true An "insubstantial pageant" Past and unremembered too? Would we return unto our source As one, not me alone or you? And all scores gone All thought of sorrow laughed away Know joy is all that's ever true. No bodies to express our pain Conceived within the dream. Reality beyond the veil Would light and love reveal. We'd thank you for your loving care For all that we'd forgot to fear. (1990) "WHAT IS INTENT ON YOUR DESTRUCTION IS NOT YOUR FRIEND"* The "what" in this case is a thought, A self-destructive thought. Or so it thinks! For Self cannot be destroyed But merely obscured a little while in dreams Which paint a blacker picture for a season, Until its truer colours re-emerge and glow Again as we remember God's sane loving Reason. For instance I accused myself today Of "never doing anything properly.' This ego thought, habitual and cruel Leaves a trail of uncompleted action Stretching back in time, proclaiming imperfection Plain to see and sullying me with blame, Which in the present operates and blights Each project rising up in sight And damns its progress and conclusion As a brake on joy and satisfaction. Start it once again, yes, if you dare, But finish never, for you never have and never will Do not deserve to share in peace and love Which others have. Abundance given freely to those better men Deserving of proud labour's just deserts. But never I, somehow inferior. The ego's counterfeit of God's own Son Whom He created pure and like Himself, For Him, the ego substitutes His shaky edifice, a mere distortion Of an outline traced, caricatured, which In parody bears not the least resemblance! But what to do about it then, I ask... Maligned by ego's ugly picture, Should I goad myself into a frantic scurry Of activity in fear that it is true And only can be overcome by action's fruit. No, though this gentle overview Does not preclude activity at all, It merely shows this insane thought's effect And clears belief that it is true. I do not need a picture such as this To rule my actions or to judge events Before they happen and look back Determining my future failings from the past. A room before me needs some freshening now I deem The vacuum cleaner is at hand. In peace I start to move and stay in peace. I do not need to judge myself Or hold this job despairing out before me Feeling I just cannot bear To "do it properly". Another "strong" idea I see, Testifying I am weak! A lie about God's Son whose strength Is unopposed and does not live Upon this plane at all Of shifting shadows, dust and thrall To drudgery and sorrow. No! He does not need to prove himself complete. He is, he lives in peace! "Who can find safety from attack By turning on himself?"* Indeed such thoughts have been attack, And nothing else! I have been blinded By the glasses I put on to see! (A joke) Crippled by the chains I wore, About my feet, quite voluntarily.... I need not judge the work I undertake As God the Father did me make. I am His Son and that which I create Is perfect too, so I am told. And on this plane of sad or happy dreams The difference only is of agitation or of peace. In truth all dreams are but themselves, Traceless equations on a clear blue sky, Have no effects but in the dream, Its characters more peaceful seem As they begin to wake Unto the nature of the dream. Its tragedy, its comedy, its long-waged wars And petty grievances. Its noble souls, its down and outs, Its players, fools, each dressed To suit the part they took As written in the author's book. Behind the scenes each one a sham An act played well or mean Adds up to nought, a big round 0 A flimsy pretext of a show. A neighbour living near for years Beyond a fence of sticks, a wall, Is nothing in our mind but just a name, A presence, sometimes kind. But maybe rooted in our mind Are shifting feelings too of hate Which serve to keep the wall Of judgements up - "that young man's thin And pale" we say, and though our dog Accosted him and bit his leg We swear the dog knew best And bit his ill intent! The watchword is PEACE in dreams of pain. Just peace, not fighting to reclaim Our lost possessions or our blighted sense Of self-worth which events proclaim exposed For ever. "What if I should be found out?" Humiliation mocks us still. No! Peace unto all, unto all I say. Peace answers all. *from A Course in Miracles NO PARTNER IN CRIME! When lowering in a pensive mood Of deeds misplaced Care misconstrued, I spent a darkened sunny day With head bowed low No time for play, Vexation snapping at my heels Frustration sapping peace and cheer. But when my partner ceased to say A word related to the fray, When sighs and frowns Brought only from him Mild remarks about the garden .... I realised I'd better change My mood and waste no more Delicious Sunday peace time Nagging on! Its strange how simply sitting down And basking in the sunny summer light A glossy magazine transports The mind to matters pleasant Though of small import to me Restores the balance to tranquility. The cloud recedes and peace descends. Eternity is not at end But present happily. The day I thought that I had lost Stretched gently on into the night. Awakening early at first light I still could doze, enjoy, no strife Was left to take into the day All trace had washed quite clean away. |