The Veil of Time

 

Time is the perception of space, 

Measuring speed crossing distance.

 Without the perception of space, 

 Time could not exist. 

 Crossing between old and new, 

 Traveling between right and left, 

 Yet if in physics there is no size, 

 Then travel occurs in thought. 

 Thought creates the boundaries, 

 Between the lines of time. 

 For thought would fall apart, 

 In seeing all states present at once.

 Human eyes cannot see, 

 What is not first seen in the mind..

 Yet all that was and will be, 

 Was first conceived in thought. 

 All things created were thought of, 

 And thought is where all things are born.

 All of reality is Creation.

 Which could not exist without the Creator.

 Our breath holds balance against the vacuum, 

 As we rocket through space against the stars. 

 Our universe of pictures creates thought, 

 While thoughts manifest in pictures. 

 Retreating to the world of thought, 

 There is no acknowledgment of time. 

 When a day of joy passes in minutes, 

 And moments of terror last forever. 

 The heart stands immune to time, 

 Through the unbound strength of love. 

 Within that eternal realm, 

 Hearts in heaven and in Earth are one. 

 Life turns the pages of time, 

 Making illusion seem real through change. 

 Yet as change measures time in our thoughts, 

 The things that are true stay the same.

 Separation through space is illusion, 

 If in physics size does not exist. 

 In this way space, time and thought, 

 Are held as one in the hand of God. 

Fire of Creation

Reality,

Scope of everything,

  Energy in form,

Canvas of stars and planets,

With this world to stand on,

In wordless contemplation,

While our hearts sing.

 Emotion is energy,

Burning hotter than the sun,

Within the physical world,

Love born force of creation,

Changing the rigidly bound,

Like clay within loving hands,

Allowing the soul to sing.

Thought is a doorway,

Seeing the world of the past,

Foreseeing the future through love,

A four dimensional projection,

Energy forming imagery ideals,

So we may form the energy of matter,

The clay God gave us to shape.

We become the shapers of souls,

In seeing what others may be,

Images more beautiful in the heart,

While our words and actions give shape,

To what that person may become,

As the power of will reciprocates,

And we grow more beautiful in return.

The storms will always come,

Washing beach sand from gold doubloons,

The fires will always come,

Revealing what can never burn,

The cold will always come,

Revealing the beauty of warmth,

For love is the fire of creation.

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.

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 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.

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.

4D

A fantastic theoretical physicist named Leonard Suskind once wrote that it would be 

exceptional to find someone who could picture 4 dimensional reality.  I took that as 

a challenge.

The beauty of the world,

In three dimensions,

Is astounding to imagine,

Lakes and rivers,

Sky and mountains,

Spinning through sunshine.

That motion is doubled,

As the Earth circles the sun,

And grows in intensity,

With the sun on its journey,

Our galaxy in full flight.

These dimensions are but three,

The fourth vast in scope,

As time is traveled in distance,

Bringing a motion of change,

To all we know and see.

This can be pictured,

As waves upon the sea,

Mountains rise from below,

Building in stature,

Weathering with the weather,

And smoothing into shore.

Clouds portray time’s journey,

Building upon building,

Blossoming into beauty,

Or growing dark as storms,

As each of us chooses in heart,

Our shape through life’s path.

Yet the clouds are not temporary,

Nor are the ocean waves,

Once part of the ocean,

Above or below us,

They remain live in their moment,

Captured within time.

Souls are scattered in time,

The past and the future,

People walk upon this Earth,

Not seeing through Time’s barrier,

Yet real in quantum mystery,

They are the energy we feel.

Perfection may be realized,

As God reconciles all life,

Bringing time to an end,

Retaining beauty in forever,

Bringing all our souls reunion,

When the quantum veil will fall.

Beyond the Temporal

Where is the soul,

Within this world?

For it can not be measured,

Nor can it be seen,

Yet each soul manifests,

Through a living body.

So if our bodies are here,

Existing in the physical,

Then where do souls reside?

From a place beyond dimension,

God gives us each connection,

Through the touch of life.

So here we are then,

Seeking coffee in the morning,

To pay our bills before evening,

Passing each other in a second,

Each wondering what to feel,

And each asking ,“What is real?”

If our souls are not on Earth,

Where do they roam in dreams?

Reality as it seems,

Where time is out of place,

Giving time to ponder,

Existence outside space.

For all physical is energy,

And God is energy supreme,

With mind and heart perfection,

As we give miracles inspection,

Does not energy change energy?

And with God how perfectly.

We sometimes see a thing,

But was it really there?

A flash of shadow or feeling,

Can send our fears reeling,

When our realms come together,

At their weakest points.

So when we pass from here,

Should we then doubt or fear?

When God stands in all realms,

And we choose Him for life,

We are held safely from the Void,

With reality found in love.

Song of the Dead

With burdens lifted,

There is no more pain,

With our hearts lifted,

All sorrow is gone,

With spirits lifted,

Fellowshipping together,

Fellowshipping forever,

In joy with God.

Hear song of hope,

With words of learning,

No more yearning,

The world is turning,

Below and within,

Again and again,

For to be with him,

Is to be in love.

Looking from below,

Through cloud of pain,

We see the truth,

Far past our burdens,

We feel the promise,

Through sight of heart,

We know the truth,

Of free will blessing,

As the song rises,

Deep from our souls.

Our songs do meet,

Within the air,

As the birds dance,

Between the rhythms,

While the winds blow,

The string’s sweet tones,

For we do choose,

Wisely forever,

As other choice,

Brings silence.

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.

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.