Relevance

This holds that,
plus this and that,
better than the old glass dish
you gave away last year;
trouble is, this is toxic,
while that was not.

This allows you to talk,
to walk and talk,
to drive a car and talk,
and even to take pictures
and do research while
talking, walking and driving;
trouble is, you have to pay a fee,
charge it with expensive power,
and have a sense that when you are using it,
it is for something worthwhile,
because if you are doing all those things
with it while driving, you could get a ticket.

This is inside your head,
and holds far more than the toxic dish,
and does far more than the electronic device,
believe it or not;
this is built to last a lifetime:
is not toxic,
does not need batteries,
cannot be given away,
and doesn’t need to be regulated,
though it must be fed and nurtured.

This last item, used correctly,
renewing itself, as it does,
with the changing tides of concerns mundane and noetic,
has the potential to maintain its value and relevance.

The other items will no doubt end up in the dustbin;
it is only a matter of time.

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Wishing Well

Shafts of light reach into the placid depths of the pool.

So, too, my gaze and my breath reach,
inward, downward through the mossy depths,
finding source and swing,
peace and wing.

The sharp relief of day's cast is softened,
and stillness imbues thought's idle current,
discoloring emotion to the point of peace
and back in reflection.

May the stroke of my gaze
and may the breath of my soul
be tokens that,
floating ever deeper into the still quiet depths,
find both their question and their answer,
find their expression from inward ever outward,
and their expansion onward, upward—beyond.

Well wishing to and from a wishing well,
for this moment and for all the episodes that follow.

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

within silence

withdraw, withdraw from the noise!
withdraw into the stillness of creation,
like burrowing into the folds of a warm cloak.

stillness invites silence
to the center of self and every living thing,
and to the interiority beyond,
which is the beauty of creation.

when silence speaks,
receive the message,
and be its instrument.

let silence play through your soul
like the breath of a song
on the beat of the sacred drum.

like the flower,
unfolding from the bud
to make a bed for the bumble bee,

silence will call blessed rest,
will speak beauty to your dreaming,
and greet you warmly in the truth of dawn.

withdraw, withdraw from the noise!
withdraw into the stillness of creation,
like burrowing into the folds of a warm cloak.

stillness invites silence
to the center of self and every living thing,
and to the interiority beyond,
which is the beauty of creation.

when silence speaks,
receive the message,
and be its instrument.

let silence play through your soul
like the breath of a song
on the beat of the sacred drum.

like the flower,
unfolding from the bud
to make a bed for the bumble bee,

silence will bring the blessing of rest,
will speak beauty to your dreaming,
and greet you at the dawn of day.

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Trignosis 3.

3. visions

from the garden,
echoes of a faded music
round the corner of forgetting

the tapestry of being
unfurls before me,
as if it could be mine
and of my making

and so I sing,
I sing to the beauties of being
and the words tumble out
like colored threads
to dazzle
and then
to darn themselves
into the warp and woof
of continuity

do I truly see,
or is it that I flow
as a thread among
the seas and seams?

from the garden,
echoes of a fading song
round of the corner of forgetting

perhaps I should enter there,
and follow

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Trignosis 2.

2. mandala

the bud opens,
spiraling from her soft center,
reaching to the eight directions
and out toward the welcoming arms of infinity

it has been this way since before the dawn,
and thus it shall ever be,
song without end,
amen

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Trignosis 1.

1. illuminations

walking in the light,

a blinding experience;
there is no softness to truth,
and neither are there shadows
within which to linger on this journey

and it does continue,
the soul journey

blindness is
a necessary hazard
while traveling the interior

they brush up against me,
their wings barely touching me,
but I can hear them rustle;
they lead me on right paths
when I put my faith in silence
and release the hand of thought

in the desert places,
bushes burn,
and silence opens
toward the flames;
angel wings guide
no-thought
forward
to be quickened
and to be quenched

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Lent

Cloudy gates open arms
so endless streams of light
can pour out their golden warmth,
purling, puddling and pooling,
to drown the chill of winter within fire.

Immersed in that glow,
so like the lighting of a lamp,
verily, my heart turns,
in complete surrender,
to be quenched within fire.

Consumed in Your flames,
there is no diminution of light,
neither am I diminished or spent,
but rather luxuriate within You:
fire-matched, melded, magnified within Fire.

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen