The Divinity of Time

 With the difficulty in life that time brings, what is the purpose of time?

What if time was a necessity to perfect love within our imperfect hearts?

Where fear meets wonder,

And sorrows blend with joy,

Time holds a mystery,

For all who will contemplate,

Seeing clearly without the eyes,

Hearing clear the vision of sound.

For time may be a realm of passage,

The untouchable forth dimension,

Through which imagination sees heroes,

Traversing the unthinkable,

For the sake of love,

A force much greater than life.

Yet time may be an energy force,

Stemming from an undiscovered source,

Manifesting in particles and waves,

Causing hours to pass like minutes,

While people are born,

And trees bear their fruit.

Time conveys burdens of sorrow,

With the appearance of illness,

The weakening of the body,

And the separation of souls,

When a loved one departs,

Never leaving our hearts.

We look upon the mystery in tears,

Raising our cries to the Most High,

Our fists clenched in anxiety,

As our heads lower to the Earth,

In all appearance of defeat.

For why must time be?

If we can only be for a time,

Entering into life with a breath,

Breathing out our soul into space,

The Undiscovered Country on horizon,

Containing more than we ever knew.

Time must exist because of love,

Growing in our imperfect hearts,

Challenges and tragedy to surmount,

Redefining boundaries and definition of life,

Becoming the energy making eternity real,

Returning us perfected unto Love.

The Weight of Thought

“The eye can never free what is real, from the throbbing of human time.”

- St. John Paul II from his poem, “Proper Weight”.

Within each person,

Resides something shapeless,

Without form or color,

With all colors and forms,

Loud within its silence,

Without measure in simplicity.

This is something,

Beginning from nothing,

Becoming all things,

The thought residing in us,

Becoming life from us,

Melting light into truth.

Nothing captures this immensity,

Which each soul faces alone,

While trying to express in words,

Exposing glimpses with shards of light,

And all of the colors of the world,

Form a fraction of the palette of thought.

Thought is formed of energy,

As rock is only energy,

Two opposing wills of force,

Resisting blows received,

Until the fire of the heart,

Bends the rock beneath the mind.

Yet the rock is but an image,

Seeming solid in its strength,

Simplicity bonded in energy,

Which yields to the human hand,

As the image within the mind,
Grapples further with the soul.

And yet the rock is one of many,

Among an ocean of human souls,

Forming currents upon this rock,

Warmed in space of the circling sun,

Spinning accurately through the infinite,

Of a thought within God’s mind.

Thought is only energy,

As energy is mass in motion,

Mass in motion carries weight,

Weight deepens wells of perspective,

Drawing the soul within the solitude,

That we may find ourselves.

The Sound of Light

The following poem is dedicated to Carthy.

The light of God's glory is beyond human comprehension.

We will know the true scope of it when we see Him.

Can you hear over the light?

The immense sound of the light,

Like singing, thunder, and wind,

Drowning out all other sound,

All that remains is the heartbeat of life,

And the beautiful sound of light.

Can you feel the light?

The unspeakable beauty of light?

Without words it touches the heart,

With fingers soft upon the skin,

Yet sharp as blades upon the mind,

For it reaches out to the soul,

Light is through the heart to the soul.

Can you see the sound?

Beyond words or notes of music,

Overcoming all with silence,

A silence beyond words,

Seen through the eyes of the heart,

Expressed in the motion of love,

Love defined by the infinite truth.

Can you feel the sound?

For all the seconds of the infinite,

Are the particles of energy,

Forming all the fields of  matter,

Mattering to the mind,

Changing through eternity,

And here but for a moment,

While we travel back to the start.

The Tenth Die

 

In his hands the dice were rolled,

Seemingly random as if a game,

Each die taking shape of thought,

Every one rolling its will unto His,

Dimensions in His hands cast forth,

Three were rolled for the physical world,

Another three for Heaven's perfect realm,

And also another place taking form,

The only place without Him,

Freedom within the physical,

Creating creation in the game given,

Walking to and from without thinking,

Walking without realizing the unseen,

Stepping through the same space as others,

Others stepping through us unseen,

The tenth die was lost for a time,

Lost until sin entered into the world,

And at that time He released time,

Thrown from His hand into ours,

A gift released to us in love,

As the tenth die once lost was thrown,

And as it was meant to be,

The tenth die will be taken up.

Bombay Beach

Kokomo, of musical fame, does not exist.

Bombay Beach is real.

Marked upon a map,

Beside a sea of salt,

The binocular symbol beckons,

As a beacon unto travelers,

About the place to see,

Along this desert sea.

A colorful sign presents,

As you take your turn to tell,

And telling signs in the distance,

Show pictures of the past,

Abandoned boarded homes,

With cars parked anew.

You find a place to enter there,

Quietly exiting your car,

Entering reluctant into the heat,

On a white beach of sand,

A sand that crunches strangely,

The way that snow does not.

In the distance over the waters,

The very still waters reflecting,

The sounds of birds deflecting,

Calling out with whispered voices,

“Aaaayyeeee!”

“Aaayyeeee!”

And now the gazes appear,

The strange gazes of the silent,

Looking at you without blinking,

Looking at you in the heat,

Staring at you in your heartbeat,

While they do not even sweat.

As fear creeps inside you,

With a quiet stilling of the heart,

You run towards the storefront abandoned,

Trying the locked door before you,

Seeing nothing but darkness within,

As something is banging to get out.

Back to the beachfront you run,

For a clear safe vision around you,

Then noticing the faces in white,

Amidst the tiny bones of sand,

Eyeless and withered mouths open,

As their voices whisper, “Staaayyyee…”

Grasping the map from your pocket,

To see where indeed you have come,

The binocular marked scenic view,

With both circles now U’s turned over,

Now clearly marks “Silenced View”,

As the sun’s rays weaken your stance.

The silent strangers observe you,

Never blinking as the sun whitens,

While their baby in bassinet brightens,

Slowly turning in steady stare,

Smile slowly spreading on his lips,

As the sun bleaches out your view.

As the brightness fades back to vision,

You have a clear vision of the sea,

Clearly seeing your rust eaten car,

As you are standing as one with the strangers,

While the sun sets into still waters,

With the sea rising over your smile.

Goodnight, Sweet Souls

Technology creates tools, but sometimes the tool creates dependency.

As the obsessive habit of taking selfies became identified as a mental disorder

by a panel of psychologists, we have further scientific studies revealing that children

using smartphones become less able to identify human emotional expression as time 

goes by.  Meanwhile, as data transference replaces learning, one must wonder if we 

are advancing as a species or beginning to regress.

We are gathered together,

Faces of a feather,

Embracing our world,

Through screens filtered,

Shaking cyber hands,

Speaking in text,

Replacing what is learned,

With data transferred,

And then lost,

With such a cost,

As we loose the way,

To converse,

Knowing expression,

Inflection,

Embraces,

And warmth,

We are people,

Loosing our way.

People,

All sorts,

Different ways,

Different thoughts,

Beliefs,

Unto anger,

On to peace,

On through love,

Relief,

For the masses,

Where they pass,

Through life,

Away from strife,

Peace,

Out in the noise,

Electric toys,

Screens of data,

Glass of illusions,

Mirages,

We seek our way,

On through the fray,

Within the storm,

Tattered and worn,

Tired,

Lost ever faster,

Serving our master,

Though name unknown,

Seen through a phone,

Fired,

Our hearts ablaze,

Love is the way,

For hearts can see,

What is to be,

Freedom,

We find our way,

God’s heart to say,

We seek His plan,

With outstretched hand,

And so we live,

With much to give,

In love.

Winds of Time

I just wrote this sitting here waiting for my wife so we can commute home together.  What is the title?  Breath of Life?  Breath of Time?  The Silence of Music?

The breath of life,

From the lips of wisdom,

Began the winds of time,

One heart beat first,

A fiery hearth,

Of intellect and love,

Below,

Around,

And above,

Uncontained,

Beyond limits,

Beyond imagination,

And beyond scope,

Bringing Creation to being,

Just for delight,

Bringing stars to mark,

The endless dead of night,

Bringing spirals of light,

From beneath the midnight sea,

Bringing the world to birth,

So He could bring you to me.

All of creation is a mirror,

Just a looking glass,

We are only aware of apparent,

Seen through the blindness of our eyes,

Barely beyond the skies,

For the limitless lies within,

Space upon space,

In infinitely smaller size,

For there is no small,

There is no size,

And in the Continuum of Love,

Creation is the joy,

Universes on Universes,

Within the same space,

Ourselves overlapping existence,

Standing in the same place,

Actions separated by time,

Time being just an illusion,

We perceive reality in slices,

To make sense of it all,

Rising since the fall,

God’s hand stretched out in love,

As we reach up to Him

To Buy Time

Some people do not believe in God, but still consider that actions from
an all powerful God would be miraculous in nature.  If one is all powerful, then actions
performed are actions in my mind.  What is miraculous to me is when the seemingly
impossible is done through human hands and I have observed many examples.  With that
in mind I will continue to smile, continue to believe, and continue to do wonderful
things until the day I meet the Greatest Miracle. 

Can time be manipulated?

And what if it could be?

For particles without mass alter time,

As gravity sends and bends its passing,

Photons permeate through it,

As light’s speed is everlasting,

Or is it?

Can light be slowed as it goes?

Perhaps if light were not light,

Exerting weight through the night,

Both in particles and in waves,

In quantum flux as one force,

Joining force with particles of time.

Binding such particles,

Both forward and back,

Changing spin for polarity,

In one solution’s singularity,

What if we could buy a past day,

Or take up future’s slack?

What is such a day worth,

Or even just a moment?

Words for someone no longer here,

Or time bought to find a cure,

So less souls would have to endure,

The path of pain towards death,

Full of darkness and of fear.

One could ask someone to come,

If there is hope to be,

Or for more hours together,

Two souls in Love’s tether,

A message of pure love,

For all to see.

Possibilities do not end,

To love,

To have,

To live,

To hate,

For finding,

For feeling,

For seeing,

For believing,

Just words…

All just words,

Which plant seeds.

Yet the Guide through darkness,

Leads all of us ahead,

We can hear His words,

Not seeing what He sees,

Feeling His hand on ours,

Is worth more than all said,

As Eternity is real,

As is endless scope from the Divine,

For with God within our hearts,

Who needs to buy time?

The Space Between Thought

 

In the space between breaths,
Moments trickle like sand,
Upon our foreheads,
And between our fingers,
As the light of our eyes,
Casts shadows on the sun.

The world can be seen,
Not in the sounds of colors,
Nor the imagery of what we hear,
But on the reflections around us,
Which can be seen through the eyes,
On the mirrors of our souls.
This is the fuel of inspiration,
Raising flames without heat,
From love within hearts,
For from the fires of passion,
Comes the powers of creation,
From the one creating all.

These images of inspiration,
Form the images of reality,
For all of reality is Energy,
Simply molded into masses,
As Einstein unlocked this truth,
While we made images become real.

As we are creatures of endeavor,
We must endeavor to create,
In giving our gifts back to life,
We build upon our souls,
Becoming all that we can be,
Holding hands beneath the star

The Weight of Time

"If gravity and light both hold a complimentary nature of being observable in waves or particles, both energy particles have no true weight, and gravity has affect on both time and light, then would a greater understanding of time be achieved by factoring it into mathematical models using the similar parameters of photons and gravitons?"

Time is a mysterious thing,

Trapping us in the present,

With memory of the past,

And no future to see.

All things are in motion,

As everything is of mass,

Mass is composed of energy,

Moving in time to be.

Gravity is tied to motion,

The living abiding in gravity,

And gravity facilitating motion,

Giving measurement of time.

The motion of the living,

Is bathed within light,

Radiating all things,

Within the darkness to shine.

Atoms in the darkness,

Lift their electrons gaining energy,

Eventually loosing force,

As a photon of light.

Perhaps gravity does the same,

Creating attraction between bodies,

So that we stay close together,

In the darkness of night.

Now light and gravity,

Both being in particles and waves,

Share another common factor,

In having no mass.

So if one affects time,

In curving its line,

Could the other affect properties,

And allow us to pass?

To know what is,

And to know what was,

Is easy in comparison,

To knowing what will be.

But the perspective of light,

Was created for vision,

Though we use very little,

For with which to see.

With bending these forces,

A door may swing open,

In the energy of reality,

So that we may walk through.

Yet when reentering our universe,

Through a different doorway,

Upon your arrival,

What would you do?

So if God is eternal,

He is outside of time,

And can see all our futures,

Just as we see today.

So whatever you may face,

If there is such a guide,

Just reach out to Him,

To see what He may say.

The Eternal Song

One cannot fall asleep in a dream,

While in reality we think we're awake,

As time passing surrealistic,

Never follows rules of patterns,

When a moment falls like glass,

Shattering into hours,

And an hour rises like a rocket,

Disappearing in a moment.

Within our dreams we see reality,

Though we cannot touch or be touched,

Within the day reality is a dream,

With all things mistaken physical,

Being mostly of empty space,

Just energy in bonds of relation,

Across the gulf of time,

Comprising our bodies in place.

Our illusions becoming shattered,

When circumstance brings destruction,

A life unto a life dispelled,

Bringing grief like none can tell,

Or the fires of change rearranging,

Making hard work all for naught,

Yet we should never be distraught,

For energy cannot be destroyed.

Floating in the nothing of everything,

One thing makes reality real,

An energy beyond contemplation,

For love is the fuel of creation,

Bringing gardens out of dust,

And beating hearts out of a union,

Making sense out of confusion,

For love is the eternal song.

The Unfolding

Dimensions are defined,

In simple ways,

Limited to the confines,

Of the mind.

In unmeasured ways,

Beyond our dreams,

The scope of truth,

We may find.

Each dimension a concept,

In which we explore,

Limitless measurements,

Of height.

Yet darkness conceals,

The limits of length,

Most difficult to see,

At night.

If dimensions are concepts,

We must never limit,

Life’s true scope,

From above.

For the greatest of these,

Is the energy that binds,

It is pure truth,

The concept of love.

Just as with length,

Love is accepted,

Existing in purity,

Without end.

The purity of love,

Strength unfettered,

In Heaven’s light,

Life does send.

Both light and heat,

Dimensions embodied,

Are some pure concepts,

Which to explore.

When darkness is king,

Never feel forsaken,

For within God’s blessings,

Life always gives more.

The Elastic Ruler

When do we awake?

Where do we sleep?

For when we sleep,

Hours are but seconds,

And when we awake,

Moments turn to hours,

So is time measured,

As we measure distance?

For a mile is a mile,

How often traveled,

Yet distance is arbitrary,

In considering time,

Our view is in relation,

To the rhythm of the Earth,

As the sun falls and rises,

While we travel round her,

Our view is an illusion,

Obscured by entropy,

As we measure decay,

In our world and in us,

For life is like a room,

We can see the wall before us,

Yet by looking through the window,

The whole room is seen at once,

If God is looking in on time,

He sees our free will actions,

Long before we decide to act,

Knowing the true beauty of living,

Paints a picture without end,

So behold the young lady,

Standing before you in beauty,

When sixty years pass by,

Has her beauty really changed?

She stands as lovely as always,

Yet to see past time’s illusion,

Takes the power of vision,

That is only in the heart,

Which sees life clearly,

For all of our lives are one,

Which is a truth so easily seen,

As one life effects another,

Whom travels beyond the shore,

For behold the English farmer,

Loved within his village,

He touched his son with life,

Who then took it forth to others,

Reaching many more in music,

The many affect each other,

Along with influence of others,

And the others who lived before,

Have never really departed,

Though entropy’s illusion,

Will hide their faces from us,

Sons touched by grandfathers,

Daughters with their mothers fire,

As King David felt Joseph’s heart,

Joseph feeling Adam and Eve,

Adam and Eve still feel God.

An Instant in Forever

A day only lasts a day,
But the light keeps moving,
As it continues to shine.
Everlasting and unending,
Warmth and life sending,
Just as the life of souls,
Never parted when joined.

Time apportioned is for needs,
Organizing the tasks we make,
Understanding why things fade,
As entropy does take its place,
Yet entropy is only an image,
For all images come and go,
While truth is everlasting.

Energy continues as always,
For energy can not be destroyed,
We can not understand its source,
Though the face of love never ages,
And the Lord of Time never changes,
As we follow free will in His plan,
Understanding joy hand in hand,
As forever unfolds in beauty.

Reality's Illusion

"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." - Albert Einstein

Time confounds the space of things,

And illuminates with illusion,

That nothing is for real,

As all fades into night,

Within the metronome of thunder,

And the pendulum of light.

For we pass within the light of day,

Not seeing those who were,

Walking on the same ground,

With invisible closed doors,

Picturing in terms of now,

All who were before.

Time counts footsteps in this corridor,

Raising walls between each hallway,

Not seeing all that was still is,

Blocked by the forces of entropy,

Concealing all that was from is,

And all that is to be.

We realize the scope within our minds,

And the affect upon decisions,

For all is vast without limits,

And that knowledge removes confusion,

Seeing our place in perpetuity,

Understanding reality’s illusion.

The Temporal Lie

Feet are never facing down,

While walking upon the Earth,

Gravity gives us that illusion,

To help deal with confusion,

But not with the physical,

Which seems physical all the time,

Yet touched upon in messages,

Upon the walls of time.

These corridors we travel,

Backpedaling forward,

As none can travel forward,

In a continuum of all directions,

Though trapped within the moment,

We stride within our race,

Constricted within illusion,

From the magnificence of space.

Our words are meaningless sounds,

In which meanings are agreed,

As we relate within confusion,

An ocean of distractions,

In the quest of life truths,

For only ideas can be pure,

As we sort with borrowed breath,

Dividing the clear from the obscure.

Observed walls of dimensions,

Are but a paper house,

Thinly veiling the incalculable,

Within the continuous unheard howling,

Beyond which the Absolute,

Existing from before the start,

Orchestrates music of infinity,

From love within the heart.

And so we see ourselves,

A brief flicker in the darkness,

Yet the truth is in the heart,

Our souls will ever shine,

Adding to eternal music,

Though we thought we could never,

For our every thought and deed,

Shapes life’s song forever.

Potential

What can be done today,

Is missing from tomorrow,

A challenge overcome,

For challenges to come,

One gives way to the other,

As potential energy realized,

Becomes energy in the real,

Reality around us,

Altering the path to come,

Changing who we are,

Just a bit,

Just a little bit,

For once today is past,

Its ghost escapes our grasp,

Yet the things we have done,

Form ground for things to come,

And if Heaven is a real place,

Then what’s to come is perfect,

Leaving things to do now,

Which only exist in imperfection,

As none will need help in Heaven,

None will require learning,

Nothing will need to be created,

As all will be in perfect beauty,

Forever.

What enters our souls,

Carries greater effect,

Than what enters our bodies,

As changes in who we are,

Form changes in reality,

Forming change in others still,

Stilling the chilling truth,

That everything matters,

Just a bit,

Sometimes more,

For the energy of hidden thought,

Exists in the reality of life,

Showing time in reality,

With no forwards or back,

As all is seen together,

In the reality of this universe,

In the reality of God’s sight,

Beyond the illusion of our vision,

Trapped in the veil of entropy,

Using borrowed breath,

So that in a short space of time,

We gather meaning in purpose,

Gathering souls in our hands,

Adding love to life’s song,

Eternally.