Tag Archives: #poetryismedicine #poetrycommunity

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Individuation

by Liam

Ive walked a path coiling like a serpent,

through shadowed groves and sudden light,

With each step, echoed a name

I once thought was me.

The masks I wore, were 

polished for strangers,

and beneath them 

a thousand unspoken selves

begin to mumble .

Dreams spoken in riddles,

their tongues woven with moonlight and bone.

Opaque symbols risen from the depths 

the wise old one,

the wild child,

the dark twin.

I do not banish them.

I invite them into my eyes

Into a house, my heart

built from reconciliations,

each room a meeting place

where my shadow meets light & clasps hands.

Sovereign 

at the far edge of this inner continent,

I recognize 

it was never about becoming someone new,

but remembering

who stands looking me all along.

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Beyondfullness

—Liam, January 2019 

You are eternity and starlight,

Clothed in the dust of cosmic creation—

Tomorrow, is stirring in your mind,

Reaching out to love’s own heartbeat.

Its rhythm,

Tick tock, tick tock—

Beats against the clock of limitations,

Yet opens the door to flow:

A still becoming,

A mindful now.

Beyond.

We meet amongst the vastness—

In a universal, embrace—

Where self dissolves

And something greater breathes through us.

Here,

In the quiet of what always was,

We recognize:

Stillness.

Oneness.

Fullness.

to

Beyondfullness.

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Fire Meets the Rain

by Liam

There is a place my soul remembers,

not with words,

but with the ringing between thunder and lightning,

where sadness once burned

a wound through my heart.

There, vengeance came first not as rage,

but as the slow agony of grief

that had no name

and I had no hand to touch it tenderly.

It carved those names into stone,

dreamt over justice with a clenched jaw,

sought the screams before silence,

blood for my unspeakable wound.

But oh, best beloved

even flame consumes its fury.

That ash longs for the wind

to lift it from the ground.

It is here the inner song begins,

soft as lark-song breaking morning frost.

Forgiveness does not forget the hurt, no

it remembers more wholly,

More vividly than with a blade.

Love is not the opposite of death, no

it is the hand holding the skull

and singing it’s soul home.

It is the courage to unbind

my own clenched fist,

Inhale the very air

that once held your enemy’s breath.

Joy does not deny the grave.

but places a flower on that stone,

not to mock the mourning

but to speak

of something still more durable

than loss.

So when the old cry returns…..

for revenge, or for reckoning,

let it find you not unprepared,

but full of this strange kindness 

grown where only pain could have come from.

And may your soul dance

In wide fields at dusk,

where fire meets the rain,

and no wind

is turned away

We will fall to dust, no sorrow and no stain,

and root our peace in the quiet morning rain.

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Go!

by Liam

It’s in the setting of my footprint

That my words begin to walk—

A journey across wide spaces,

Tracks deep inside my thoughts.

The story of those places—

Of stars, of mountains too,

Of hummingbirds and crystal balls,

Of you, and me, and who.

This world of ever-never—

It’s here for all to share.

It’s here we touch, we laugh, we cry,

We open up the inner eye

To fly, to fly, to fly—

According to a magic where bonds release the grip,

Where things unfold—a story told,

A whispered word, a place of gold.

Not only in this hour, ‘twixt midnight and the dawn—

Outside, a storm; inside, it’s warm:

A twinkling star,

A princess far,

A half-filled, waiting cookie jar.

I’m talking with an angel

Who whispers in my ear:

“Of seas, and ships, and sealing wax,

Of cabbages and kings.”

Oh, friends, now gather round me—

Your time too near at hand.

Your journey starts; our ways might part,

Yet never feel alone at heart.

It’s in the setting of that footprint

Your words will learn to walk,

Take you on a journey far—

Beyond the storm,

The twinkling star,

The secret space where

We just are—

All one.

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 Angels Dance

By Liam

Now day departs and seeks its rest,

Soft gold still lingers in the west.

The sky dissolves in shifting light,

Blues to crimson, then to night.

Yes! you, an angel dancing high,

Across the quiet evening sky.

Clouds become your gentle flight,

Again, you drift into my sight.

Your horizon now meets my gaze,

You search the night with tender words.

With stars, with sparks, with dreams unseen,

Then flashes where our souls convene.

Together there, we shape and write

A cosmos born of purest light,

A heaven woven, bright and free

Our silent book, our mystery.

Now I close my eyes in sleep,

This wonder in my breast I keep,

Until at dawn, on morning’s wing,

We wake once more, and rise to sing.

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Quietude 

by Liam

A handshake…

 this simple moment of presence.

Your child’s laughter, sudden and bright,

like a bird startled into song.

The August rain,

softening the grass under my feet,

and the patient rhythm of the sea ….

eternal, like my first deep breath in the morning.

A glass of wine with dad,

that silent enjoyment of time passing gently.

The grace of easing someone’s pain…

as if your hands remembered

they were created for this.

And love…

not hurried, but intense and slow,

together under the watchful shade of the moon.

Our souls meeting again,

stronger for the intimacy  we enjoy.

Life, quietly , remains

the most astonishing gift.

It is from here…

this place of sacred normality…

that we learn to stop,

Allowing the small things to speak.

These, they are the truest.

They fade not.

They dwell inside us like embers,

warming us when we feel cold.

And this is why we go on …

because even in the quietude,

we are being told who we truly are.

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Music

By Liam

Dance, spin, and soar,

not as an escape, but as a return.

This rhythm is older than breath,

deeper than quietude.

It’s as we began.

A pulse in the dark,

a whisper blowing between stars.

The music waits,

not here in the noise of the world

but in the hush beneath it’s appearance.

When the body loosens its grip

and the soul steps forward,

bare and trembling,

then the ringing begins

pure and vast,

the long, clear tones

of the cosmos remembering itself.

O how the energy moves in me,

not frantic, but free.

The spheres humming in holy accord,

lifting us again and again

like breeze whirling over open fields,

like joy spilling out from love.

To be lost in flow

is to be found by grace.

To move without need

is to be moved by something

wider than will.

There, in motion

unbound and unburdened,

I felt at last…

not the music I sought,

but the music I’ve become.

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The Brushstroke 

by Liam

There is an artist,

Not apart from you, but pulsing in your very breath.

There was an artist,

Creating long before the cry of your first light.

There shall always be an artist,

Alive in the quiet flame of your becoming.

You are the brushstroke of the Eternal,

Painting the canvas of each day with your presence.

Each morning you waken the dawn,

Summoning gold from the hush of shadow.

From the invisible, you call forth wonder,

Shaping creation from the silence of soul.

A star has kindled deep within your being,

Its radiance not seen by the Sun,

But known in the marrow of your being.

It outshines the wild surge of the sea,

Moves beyond the mighty pulse of the surf.

Let this fire infuse your moment,

Let your hands create with sensations of longing,

Until the world feels the love of your light.

Becoming the art you were born to reveal.

Becoming the blessing you already are.

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Climb

by Liam

When your soul searches for answers,

Go deep—scale the vast immensity, climb!

The cliffs, the cracks, the sacred crevices

Of your own magnificence.

Embrace it all—fully, without fear,

For your thirst will only be quenched 

From the fountainhead of self.

“Where?” the traveler whispered.

“Here,” the echo replied,

“Where insight meets recognition.”

This knowing lives within you—always has.

Let greatness be your mountain.

We all must climb with humble steps,

Toward the truth:

For you are, and always have been, whole.

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by

the Soul

by Liam

Remember my beloved,

not as an act of memory 

but as an insight~

a soft turning toward

the beginning of your beginning still breathes.

For within the archives of your memory

there waits a threshold,

a gate not made by hands

Yet which opens by the ache of love.

You stood there once~

before your naming, before the remembrance 

and the insight that met you then

And has never ceased to seek you since.

Here,

you will not become more,

nor less~

but completely and wholly

what you have always been:

a flame within the great fire,

a note in the eternal sound,

a soul returning to source.

In this sanctuary,

at the very center of your heart,

there is a joy beyond song,

not even happiness, but belonging;

not escape, but homecoming.

To become everything

is to become nothing~

and in this disappearance 

you again become one.

Not as before,

but as forever.

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#poetry, #love, #grace, #poetryismedicine #poetrycommunity, #gratitude, #poem, #lovely, #invisibility, #spiritgarden, #writer, #inception, #poet, #quote, #wisdom, #poetsofinstagram, #love, #poems, #thoughts, #spiritual, #devinity, #inspirationalquotes, #writing, #beyond, #motivation, #inspiration, #motivationalquotes, #contemplation