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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.  Meeting Wisdom 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 08-07-14  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... Dylan Thomas...reassured 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...? 09-07-14 | |
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