Absolute

 Reality is often confused as only being that which can be seen.

From Pope John Paul II on April, 18, 1982:   "Yes, consecrated souls, among the people of this generation, who are so immersed in the relative, you must be voices that speak of the absolute."

Concrete,

Cities,

Sidewalks,

Lanes,

Cars,

Cycles,

Subways,

Trains.

Television,

Media,

Smartphones,

Connect,

Emotions,

Support,

Comfort,

Neglect.

Thunder,

Lightening,

Wind,

Waves,

Stars,

Forests,

Mountains,

Caves.

Money,

Power,

Fortune,

Fame,

Pursuit,

Material,

Wealth,

Gain.

The world is relative,

God is absolute.

Fear

Where there is no love, fear reigns.

Your footsteps sound an echo,

The rhythm is not quite right.

Motion follows vision,

Or just a trick of light.

Your shadow sticks nearby,

The normal one you see,

While whispers in the silence,

Confirm what cannot be.

Cold flows from the shadows,

Spreading across the floor,

Escaping an airless room,

Through barely open door.

No sound can now be heard,

The crickets stopped their song,

While the voice within your heart,

Warns all of this is wrong.

Shadows point to shadows,

As true within the night,

While yours behaves quite oddly,

Angled towards the light.

In passing your reflection,

Conscience may not think,

As eyes close for an instant,

Your image does not blink.

Ice fingers touch your skin,

As delicate as a dream,

And wordless sound falls from you,

Within a shattered scream.

For some doors once open,

Can never be closed again,

This world hides in plain sight,

What is seldom known by man.

Things which seem unreal,

Which never could be near,

Are often walking with you,

Much closer than your fear.

The Blood of Ghosts

When we give up in life,

despair reigns victorious.

Some grips take hold,

And never let go,

Like a vice upon the heart,

With no means of release,

Frozen fast unmoving,

Spreading chill from inside out,

Fear spawning doubt,

No light within the maze,

All exits are concealed,

As horror becomes revealed,

The shadows of life have limbs,

Hands spreading across the walls,

Endowed with sinuous claws,

Taking hold of those with heart,

All stilled within their grasp,

Arms and legs held fast,

The air is taken from sound,

Silent screams fall to the ground,

Without bodies they never rest,

Shadows latch upon the best,

Following with every step,

With every motion,

Every thought,

Till ice flows through the veins,

Life continues with stilled heart,

Removing difference from true death,

For despair is the blood of ghosts.

Entropy's Cradle

The spirit awakes,

Checking reflection,

Image within a shell,

Either male or female,

The world is a movie,

An image like projection,

In the energy of light,

We move and we stand.

Nothing is real,

Nothing will last,

Try not to feel,

Never hold fast,

Do not consider,

What may soon be,

All is undone,

In entropy.

In shouted whispers,

The voices combine,

A tapestry of thought,

Hanging in the air,

Some threads of relation,

A patch of business,

Like a vapor it passes,

Into the emptiness of air.

Nothing is real,

Nothing will last,

Try not to feel,

Never hold fast,

Do not consider,

What may soon be,

All is undone,

In entropy.

Eyes see through eyes,

An invisible connection,

Passing through the noise,

Passing to the souls,

With different charges,

Sparks will occur,

With thoughts incurred,

Through this door of life.

Nothing is real,

Nothing will last,

Try not to feel,

Never hold fast,

Do not consider,

What may soon be,

All is undone,

In entropy.

As souls connect,

Hearts are awakened,

Love is not forsaken,

For creation is fruition,

Of love from the heart,

Love to imagination,

Imagery to the hand,

Reality has a start.

Nothing is real,

Nothing will last,

Try not to feel,

Never hold fast,

Do not consider,

What may soon be,

All is undone,

In entropy.

Time is the measurement,

Of  temporary things,

As entropy commands,

This changing world,

Forcing us to hold fast,

To things that are true,

For love makes eternal,

Our thoughts and souls.

All things are real,

No future or past,

The truth you can feel,

Of what truly lasts,

Of thoughts from souls,

The soul’s love will be,

The fuel of forever,

Beyond entropy.

Who is The Doctor?

There is a traveler,

Of both time and space,

Known to civilizations,

With eternity in his eyes,

Known to many souls,

With fire in his heart,

Imagination without limit,

Impossibilities made possible,

Bringing hope to hopelessness,

Light is in his wake,

Life where death took hold,

The spark which makes fire,

Leaving fear far behind,

For fear comes from doubt,

Doubt will not cross his mind,

As dimensions pose no barrier,

And energy forms the key,

Reality forms from choices,

What is and what must be,

Yet this guardian of life,

And lord of all time,

Goes not by any name,

For what is in a name?

Save the promise of a soul,

The mission of a heart,

Where did this soul begin,

If life truly has no start?

As the Doctor he is known,

For his practice restores life,

Yet his true name is unknown,

Though chance his travels find,

The beginning of known time,

Where life came from a dream,

Unto the opening of eyes,

And entering therein,

For preservation of all,

He became part of life,

Through many different souls,

Walking every different land,

Unique and individual,

Yet with the burning passion,

The desire to inspire,

The bravery to pursue,

The love to protect,

All adding to perspective,

To the joy of who he is,

To the magic in all of us,

To all who feel this power,

I must ask, “Is it you?”

The Void

All matter is energy according to Einstein.
That energy is filled with empty space.
The only thing that fills the "empty" is creation.
When we let go of our gift of creation,
All that remains is the Void.

There is a gulf,

Between life and death,

A distance traveled,

Without moving,

Warmth removed,

Replaced by cold,

Death grip of ice,

Without motion,

In silent scream,

Eyes wide shut,

As the tomb is closed,

On imprisoned heart,
In the embrace of earth,
Upon the darkness of day,

Yet the truth of life,

Is in the spaces,

Reality formed,

In empty bonds,

Illusion born,

From atomic ghosts,

Energy bound,

With invisible hands,

Yet the sense of life,

Is within creation,

Love imagination,

In everything seen,

For creation is,

Sense from madness,

Foundation on nothing,

From which to breathe,

On road away,

From Creation’s beauty,

We tap on screens,

To drown the screams,

Lost in illusions,

While on deaf ears,

Life’s song does fall,

Our precious gift,

This human prize,

Slips through our fingers,

While minds are falling,

Into the gap,

The nothing of atoms,

Where there is no size,

No space,

No up,

No down,

No light,

No darkness,

Only madness,

Within the Void.

The Waters of Light

Color is never the same,

Wherever you may go,

Each place having character,

Singing under the sun,

For all light is like water,

Taking all that it touches,

Light takes on the leaves,

Traveling through the woods,

Light takes on the flowers,

As it touches every garden,

The rocks and the mountains,

Lend light their strength,

And the palette of colors,

Combines to form the song,

As the song of light in Europe,

Speaks of history and culture,

The art of living love,

And the style of loving life,

The light within America,

Is diversity in unison,

As many come together,

In forming something new,

While the light of the Orient,

Speaks of ancient secrets,

From the first beat of a heart,

Unto love surpassing time,

While the light from each star,

Contains a little of all things,

For it passes through the universe,

To touch our very souls,

And from the heart of God,

These waters pour to us,

Quenching every thirst,

As the heart sees all light.