Ode To Tahoe

The water is clearer than the air, and the air is the air that angels breathe.

-Mark Twain

“…at last the lake burst upon us—a noble sheet of blue water lifted six thousand three hundred feet above the level of the sea, and walled in by a rim of snow-clad mountain peaks that towered aloft full three thousand feet higher still… I thought it must surely be the fairest picture the whole earth affords.”

-A distant relative of mine—Mark Twain

Should I stand perchance
and gaze upon your shore
while your waves they dance
—abrupt and still
where my thoughts 
shall spill forevermore.
 
I look so deep 
within your emerald depth
for as much
as what I seek
is likened to your clarity. 
 
And so it is
beneath a mirror 
—tinted zephyr
here I stood 
dreaming awake 
fifteen years to the day.
 
For my gladness 
you have given
and my wishes true
as your hue blue.
Though in your reflection of me
I will always see a storm-savaged sea
amongst these waves of tranquility.
 
Floated by your youth
upon a buoyant breeze
with your water and your sand
you took me by the hand.
And so I swam
through the depths of you 
so deep and blue
so tried and true.

BeLove © 2018

Soul Wax

So let us head His way
towards a brand new day.
It is there
He will seal our stamps
beneath Heaven’s oiled lamp.

The soul like a wax
waiting for its seal
only to be softened 
on the path to God’s will

A soul itself
has no identity
til it finds some warmth 
deep in His destiny.

This wax it will melt
as it reaches His hand
and so it will be
whatever He sees
as the truth of our identity
shall forever set us free.

For all souls will fall soft
as they turn to His light
cradled with a faith

which howls with the coming night.

But if a soul so lost
lives in the dark 
with no intent 
of seeking His spark
the spark it will cease
while the soul dries hard
and crumble it shall
to an arid ash 
fallen through the crease of hell

Therefore it is wise
to stand beside
His blazing fire
held by a hand and His will 
as our only desire. 

It is then

when we sit soft
a place He will prepare 
one of which 
we have never been scared.

Stay warm and oh so whole
for on the day of death—so cold
Christ will come
to carry us through 
one last breath 
on our way Home.

So let us head His way 
towards a brand new day. 
It is there
He will seal our stamps
beneath Heaven’s oiled lamp.

And please say your peace
as you leave your feet.
It’s nothing but your soul’s
divine identity 
pure bliss will forever keep.

BeLove © 2019

Golden Shore

And they told him, “We came to the land to which you sent us. It flows with milk and honey, and this is its fruit.

Numbers 13 : 27

We are all but specks of dust

fallen from what lay above

left astray to find that one

to play this game they call Love.

 

Created high upon an astral plane

we dive dual—a broken flame.

Our souls but puppets

strung with glorious Grace

upon His golden shore.

This life but a stage

separated by nothing more

than the thoughts that rattle around a cage.

 

But it is what drips within our mind

—a hint of gold

paints itself upon our soul.

A nectar so sweet

for what once was dead

finds a new thread.

 

In the darkest of places

we must give the most light

fed with faith and starved of fear.

Then comes a voice

all shall hear

shivered loud—ringing clear.

 

Love it falls like a drip

eternal from a golden mind

trickling through your heart

comes a faith so kind.

For fed is the soul

flowing with milk and honey

from an oil so sacred

it keeps the lamp of Heaven

forever trimmed

and always burning.

BeLove © 2018