Spiritual Tools - Poems

Notes on the Art of Poetry

by Dylan Thomas

I could never have dreamt that there were such goings-on
in the world between the covers of books,
such sandstorms and ice blasts of words,,,
such staggering peace, such enormous laughter,
such and so many blinding bright lights,, ,
splashing all over the pages
in a million bits and pieces
all of which were words, words, words,
and each of which were alive forever
in its own delight and glory and oddity and light.


by Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

When I heard the learn'd astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander'd off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.

What's A Poem?

by Charles Ghigna

A whisper,
a shout,
thoughts turned
inside out.

A laugh,
a sigh,
an echo
passing by.

A rhythm,
a rhyme,
a moment
caught in time.

A moon,
a star,
a glimpse
of who you are.



©2/26/2010 Used by permission

One day, immersed in typing,
A solitary fly alighting
On my computer screen.
Can he comprehend my bits and byting
More than I the color green?
How little each can ever see
Yet how full our Wonder -
Our Discovery!


©2/26/2010 Used by permission

Hunters, dancing fire light,
Many masks expose,
Wearing who each wants to be
Desires deep arose.
Lightning God or Hunted Prey,
Jokester, Sage, Buffoon,
Acting parts each child designed
To show off to the moon.
Who watches quiet behind each mask
Aware though silent, still?
Covered, blocked but smiling bright
Behind fear’s guilty Will.
Sunlight sheds night’s masquerade,
Each dancer tiredly spent,
May awake crisp, unafraid
To face life innocent.

Mirrored Faces

©2/26/2010 Used by permission

Feeling less joy, I pondered...
Does the world owe me their glow?
When I radiate imagined joy first
Mirrored faces shine back in return.
Though some are dark and clouded
Some are clear, well lit within.
Unlike happiness,
Joy with no opposite
Is but a state uncovered
Like Serenity and Love.
As I shed resentments, fears,
And all my little plans
I see...
Joy is not something the world owes me
But something I throw out to the world
That bounces back and hits me in the heart!


©4/11/2010 Used by permission

What wonder morning waking
viewed anew!
I am! I am again!
Awe filled gift, is true.

Eons’ chains unbroken
yields garden offspring - me!
Rare this star-stuff’s
dreamless glimpse
at moment’s clarity.

Soon noisy forgetfulness,
feelings bound to thought,
shrouds a mind-full sanity
with routine blindness taught.

Awake to nothing granted
oft throughout our now.
A gentle breath attention filled
reveals I am the WOW!

Not Green

©7/27/2010 Used by permission

A leaf is Not Green
Light reflects the colors leaves are not
Absorbing the unseen
All truly is illusion.

Now I Am Enough

©12/20/2008 Used by permission

Stepping stones across life's foggy river,
the other side unseen.
Some are sound; some slick.

I pause to breathe the misty air
and sense the river flow.
I look for signs of other feet
or rock or sand below.

Once I tried to pierce the fog
or scheme to clear its stay.
Today I smile and dance and sing
across the certain Way.

I do not care if little things
won't work to suit my schemes
since all of God's Results are found
beyond my wildest dreams.

Today I cease the question why
what waits across on shore
for Now I Am Enough my friend
and that's what life is for.

Alot of God!

©5/12/2011 Used by permission

Mother's day,
a country church,
sermon to ensue.
Precocious little girl
Sudden, turns, chin up to query
Grandma's point of pew
"Where does God live?"... pause
A wrinkled smile looks down and far
"All around us now
from here to farthest star."
A thoughtful distant gaze
then innocence exclaims
"WOW! That's alot of God!"

The minister with sermon plan
connecting page and verse
Roller coaster voice, passion’s space
explaining faith and gifted Grace
Eager seekers’ bibles rustle
Amens shout and deacons puzzle

Yet I, at Peace, am
filled with simple Wonder’s Awe
projected from a little girl's face.


They Are Not real

©5/15/2011 Used by permission

Our weekly Sunday date
After lunch movie
We stroll across the cloud cloaked Parking lot
Glass doors open a cacophony
Of sound, sight, smell
Inner kid awakens
Favorite seats, our 3-D glasses…waiting…then
Cartoon creatures jump above the crowd
Adult issues melt into the spinning Technicolors
 Feelings flow along the scripted artist’s path
Lost in mind story until
The End
Parade of faceless names rolls on ignored as
Fellow travelers compare murmured opinions and
Check belongings to the sound of
Sticky popcorn crunching soles.
Outside blue sky sunshine and
Thoughtless Peace…then
A memory of figures leaping from the screen
A sudden gasping clarity
They are not real,
I Am!
All those nows of faceless names to manufacture
My unlikeness
To know reality One must be


©12/7/2011 Used by permission

A Rose is more complex than a Cathedral.
Paper dolls and coloring crayons mimic
Mommy and Daddy’s world.
Original Seekers awake in gardens
The Ego sees as not enough.
Attempting to improve the Garden
We find through time
All structures are unstable.
Awesome, crumbling brokenness -
Creator, Destroyer and Creation are One

You Meet Me

©10/21/2012 Used by permission

You meet me soft Presence
in meet pauses.
Rivers ever meeting.
Needs met.



©12/18/2011 Used by permission

Middle aged little girl
Time dressed seeker in
Tired circumstances.
Eager beak pecking
Mind’s shell from inside
Willing breakout to Light
Finally hears the age old message,
 “Who are you between your thoughts?”
Illusion’s shell suddenly pierced
Let’s in
“What in you is unchanged
since earliest memory?”
A larger fragment surrenders.
“How many ancestors do you have?”
Wonder Light pours in and flows out.
“Be still and know I Am!”
Points to my life essence first
And through that to
Great Unity – We – God.
Thunderous Awakening
To simple acknowledgement
Free of understanding’s needy clutch.
“I Am” remains …
The Mahamantra –
The Great Reminder.

Such A Thing

©1/1/2012 Used by permission

Glass half-full, half-empty?
Pause, look deep and ponder.
Sudden gasping clarity:
“There is such a thing as Glass
And such a thing as Water!”

Wherefore Glass?
Moon-power grand,
Tidal eons reformed
Core to mantle crushed to sand.

Useless without fire user.

Moon stirred oceans shaped life’s clay,
Waxing, waning, sifting, straining.
Slowly conscious emanating
From pool and depths to land complaining

Some to wonder.

Awakened terracotta
Assumes moon’s role.
Kneady unknown purpose, man,
Slowly stirring seeks control
Of stick, of fire, hearth and land.

Minds that wander.

Chance notes reflective forms
From hottest fire embers.
What use new melted mystery?
Successes frequent blunders.
Bead then bauble, shard to pane now
Hum-drum glass of tea.

Moon force manifested.
  Wherefore Water?
Star-power might
Night years transform
Quant to core to implode light.

Elemental coalescence.

Creative pattern’s simple pair,
Life blood’s protective orbit graced,
Poised slight mid rock and air,
Apt corroder mountain’s rocky face.
Soft, temperate, solvent.

Awakened stillness, power
Assumed shapes hold.
Steady heaven’s mortar spins.
Endless forms compete, unfold.
Rise, fall, flow, stand - time again

Subtle balance yonder.

Life-course container learns,
What ancient star-stuff we!
What use now’s gasping clarity?
Unknown hours’ smiles set free.
Soft sip glee mind can’t contain for
Witnesses we be -

Star force interested.

Glass half-full, half-empty?
Excessive selfness
Smothering clatter,
Seeking answers
Fails to notice…
“There is such a thing as Glass
And such a thing as Water!”

A Life That Matters

Added 10/9/2012 Anonymous

Ready or not, someday it will all come to an end.
There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days.
All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else.
Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.
It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.
Your grudges, resentments, frustrations, and jealousies will finally disappear.
So, too, your hopes, ambitions, plans, and to-do lists will expire.
The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.
It won't matter where you came from, or on what side of the tracks you lived, at the end.
It won't matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant
Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.
So what will matter?
How will the value of your days be measured?
What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built; not what you got, but what you
What will matter is not your success, but your significance.
What will matter is not what you learned, but what you taught.
What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched,
empowered or encouraged others to emulate your example.
What will matter is not your competence, but your character.
What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss
when you're gone.
What will matter is not your memories, but the memories that live in those who loved you.
What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom and for what.
Living a life that matters doesn't happen by accident.
It's not a matter of circumstance, but of choice.
Choose to live a life that matters.

Admirable Average

©10/23/2013 Used by permission

Admire quality average emanates
Remember: Nothing “just-a” label
Worlds within worlds unnoticed

Really remarkable roaches
Perfection beyond contempt

Wrinkled face with
Every ripple in its place
Time honored testament

Eons speak
From a folding chair
Made of and by our star-stuff
Stare …

Infinite examples possible
Yet remember, please,
This verse
 Is no better
- Yea no worse -
Than your average sneeze.

At Passing

©9/28/2014 Used by permission

At Passing's
Last moments' pause
Three wishes:

Forgiveness of
uncounted opportunities
for focused kindness
spent instead in
fearful grasps at
cloud like futures sought;

Desire that my first death
be followed
by the second -
The moment when I am
entirely forgot;

But above all,
Quiet assurance
Gift of glimpsed
was freely spent
being what I ought.

I do now a favor
for a future friend -
the one at last glance back -
so he may know
in depth as fact ...
Ours was a
Job well done
though, most times,
laughably and
haltingly begun.



  1. Poetry - a form of literary art in which language is used for its aesthetic and evocative qualities in addition to, or in lieu of, its apparent meaning.