My Bubbles
A Prelude (Into the Real)
I looked at the "truth" and (shunned) what I saw,What "truth" I saw was not "truth" at all!
I looked and looked but nothing seemed Real,
(????) did I feel.
Terror now entered and colored my dark world,
My psyche to endless madness was now hurled.
With reeling brain and heart beating mad,
I clinged to the "truth" with all that I had.
Unrelenting visions of terrifying force,
Breathtaking facts I could not divorce!
Help me! God help me! My inner voice cried,
Please let this "truth" in me now die!
Miracle or madness, but from forth a candle at night,
An gentle voice spoke from it's flame burning bright.
"If all thought betrays, then "truths" cannot heal,
Seek not the "truth" to find what is Real."
(add something here)
Again from the flame a voice I did hear,
The candle now brighter extinguished my fear.
"Seek not the "truth" and trust not what you feel,
Don't confuse "truth" with that which is Real."
(add section here)
I wish to claim wisdom hath brought me here,
But twas necessity, terror and unbridled fear.
The room now engulfed in luminous light,
Spoke these last words as my soul took flight.
A simple axiom the sages have taught,
"That which is Real is not made of thought".
Robert
A Poem for Larry
I would like to thank Larry "The Navigator" Williams for mentoring me back to the "eye of the hurricane" where music and life intertwine in creative harmony.Lost and unsure I blindly followed the river that snaked thru ancient oak groves
The one the navigator carefully pointed out long ago
Until I found solitude near a fern grotto.
There birds sang to the shimmering sun above,
As fresh springs flowed from the Earth below
By the springs I found a guitar
Made from oak and cedar, inlayed in fine cameos
And carved on the headstock were the letters H O M E
As I plucked it's deepest string
I awoke as if from a dream
And remembered my name
And how I came thru
The longing and pain
Back to the eye of the hurricane.
SG