Poem: Doing the Work of Waking Up (as if our lives depend on it)

Old man sitting in the coastal dune lake estuary doing the work of awakening by grace through practice of the age old principles

Prologue to my poem (below): Lamenting the times in which we live, I offer this awareness. Only by choosing the spiritual practices and age old principles that guide them, may one free their mind from the self-socio-cultural illusions of their reality this freeing peoples to come together as True Selves authentically belonging in community. We are talking the age old practices and principles of exile, death, resurrection, authentic belonging.

Poem: Doing the Work of Waking Up
(as if our lives depend on it)

Impermanence and change
is our human experience

Arising and falling away
our reality in tension

The unchecked mind lurging
this way and that a rider-less chariot

The ego self, in it’s fear,
clinging to comfort, avoiding risk

Thoughts’ seed and fruits’ action
is where our suffering begins a Buddha said

Thus practicing spiritual discipline
embracing spiritual principles of the ages

Learning non-attachment/non-aversion
Opens mindfulness of seed thought and fruit action

From contaminated consciousness arises
awareness of the self-socio-cultural illusion

Seeing our predicament
now bringing mindfulness and intention to bear

One may become the botanist and gardener
sowing the new seed and reaping the new fruits

The True Self can be harvested
now mastering the tensions and illusions within

True Self manifesting equanimity
equanimity manifesting wholeness

Wholeness, compassion
compassion, loving kindness

Loving kindness,  self/other healing
self/other healing, authentic belonging

Thus free of illusions, liberated souls
remembering all life Divine and acts sacred

Personally and collectively, whole again
true selves, authentically relating

One with the Cosmic Universal Creator Christ
walking each other home together

Here and now our heaven on earth
in the grace of a loving God we gather

Beloveds, doing the work of waking up
(as if our lives depend on it)

Herb Stone, here&now working poetry, August, 2019





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