The Poetry of Wali Qutbuddin Loren Ruh Smith
My Soul is always Reaching for Your Spirit
“I am not but Spirit!” This is the deep message my
Soul wants me to know...standing here in the Light
Rooted to the Mother’s Breast...this marriage
Defined by images caught in mirrors of glass and
Mirrors of Soul...demand of me to turn from myself
Outward toward another You, toward another self.
Events out of the Light may be causing dissimulation of
Light...but Light always dies but to be Born Again.
Bringing itself, its gift of warmth, to heal the wound
And to ascend again into the Source, into the Light.
The shaman knows those noises...
They sometimes disturb the hunt...they
are sometimes the result of the hunt...
You see, the shaman has kept
to his roots, not like the shamans
reed flute, having been cut from
its root, its soundings are the
lamentations of the broken hearted
which the shaman knows but he
Also knows of the healed heart...
knows the Icy grags and shadowed
vales...becoming knowing of the songs...
Of the void between notes, between
the lyrics, between the breath taken
in and the breath expelled... There
he finds the knowing of Wisdom...
There, he meets Her...Mother Sophia
Bussing to Blessing
Even this poem’s tittle sings
As my breath whistles to and
From my lungs, songs are forming.
This music is mine...blessing
From within... Harmonics blend
With passing breezes sending
Their messages thru grasses
And happily echoing
Leaf and needle green fire...
As well as infusing joy
In Her children’s creators
All of Eden is alive...
All of its denizens sing...
How else could we be?... You! Me!
You!...Me!...How else could we Be...?
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