Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Remember


This life’s the form
your teaching is to take.

Its meaning is a spirit
singing at the gate.



14 comments:

Joseph Hutchison said...

Beautiful! What is about gates? So poignant....

William Michaelian said...

Waiting. Singing. Standing.
Some with their walls or fences gone.
Still, the urge is to pass through,
rather than around.

Thanks, Joe.

Jan (JFM) said...

William, with your beautiful words and maybe because of the many people whom I love that have passed-on recently, I envision someone in spirit, standing by the "pearly gates", singing to St. Peter to be welcomed home~

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Jan. Understood.
And, do you know, I think
that’s a picture you can paint....

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

I was unable to post this poem because I exceeded the maximum 'HTML Characters'. So, I will post it in two sections.

Seekers

For those who seek truth, understanding and peace,
who search for themselves or from bondage release,
for all who would ride on enlightenment’s wings
and return to the mother of all living things,
there are roads we may take, though paths rarely crossed,
for most were forgotten and long ago lost,
and now deep in the vines of neglect lay obscured,
but lead still to wisdom which has always endured.

At one time these paths were open and clear,
not darkened by hate, superstition or fear,
and as children of life people knew well the way,
as the Spring follows Winter and night follows day.
Yet man traded trust in his heart for the mind,
built his great cities and left forests behind.
In learning new things he forgot what was known,
discovered himself and forgot the way home.

Thus humans grew blind with their innocence lost
and like ships in a storm were battered and tossed.
Then into the darkness of ignorance came
those who said only they could speak in God’s name.
They built themselves temples and palaces grand,
and declared it was they who held truth in their hand.
No more would life’s song touch on every man’s ear,
only words said by men who describe what they hear.

No longer alone would the heart’s spirit trod
for they named but themselves the brokers of God.
It was they who now spoke, they men must now hear;
and they called themselves priests without equal or peer.
Once men heard the voice of their God in the breeze.
It spoke of the truth of what any man sees.
Now with books they decide what God has to say.
They have built a great wall that’s obscuring the way.

But voices speak still from the mists of the past
of a truth that forever and always will last;
the voices of masters and easily heard,
though teachings that teach by using no word.
Should the path now be chosen and one heed this call,
the teachings will lead to the gate in the wall.
The way that is shown is pronounced by no tongue,
but was known to us all when the forests were young.

The masters are wise and will teach us to be;
open our eyes so we once again see.
They show us a way to return to ourselves
and back to the truth within which God dwells.
Draw close to the mother, the beat of her heart,
a mother from whom we have long been apart.
The masters will tell us that Nature’s the key
which unlocks the new gate and sets a man free.

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

Thus we measure the turn of the sun and the moon;
mark the call of the crow and the cry of the loon.
From Nature we learn the correct way to be,
in the curl of the wave and the turn of the sea.
We carefully watch how the river goes by,
the fall of the rain and the clouds in the sky.
In marking the seasons and counting the days
we measure God’s rhythm and the dance of His ways.

So four steps are counted that lead to the gate
behind which the seeker encounters his fate.
Four steps of two colors, though hewn from one stone
and each who would seek them must climb them alone.
The gate is unguarded, possesses no walls;
behind it no castle lifts towers or halls.
Beyond it is nothing…a wilderness deep
within which the dragons of emptiness sleep.

Yet from it there issues all known to exist
in the roar of the dragons that never resist.
The first step is hearing the words of the wise.
The second is doing that which opens the eyes.
To forget is the third, and learn to be free.
The fourth is not doing and allowing to be.
These steps lead us straight to the heart of the mother:
then see the world through the eyes of no other.

And in each of four virtues there is life to be found;
in the holding of each there is strength without bound.
Humility, courage, wisdom, compassion,
a life balanced and free will allow us to fashion.
Before you now count four steps to be learned;
in the climbing of each is humility earned.
Learning and doing, forgetting, not doing,
teach us the wisdom of never pursuing.

So closely we watch how the four cycles spin.
The motion of each reveals wisdom within.
The stars and the moon, the sun and the earth
are guides on the path of the spirit’s rebirth.
Seek to fulfill the four sides of man
and use the four virtues that this will demand.
Nurture body and spirit, the heart and the mind;
then dance to the music of Being sublime.

For God will be found in the free and the wild;
in the song of the wolf and the heart of a child.
Not just to the chosen does God his ear lend
for he speaks in the trees with the voice of the wind.
Four cycles, four virtues in four sides of man
lead to four steps that one climbs as one can.
The key is in climbing these steps to the door:
when the fourth step is reached, the gate is no more.


Copyright 2005 – Evolving: Poems 1965-2005, Gary B. Fitzgerald

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

I believe that this is the longest poem I ever wrote. Thank God I'm out of that phase!

William Michaelian said...

The key is in climbing this poem to the door:
when the last stanza’s reached, the poem is no more,
except that it is, and that is for sure:
for the truth it contains is readily clear:
Fitzgerald, Gary B., was here.

Ed Baker said...

14 minutes into this beautiful film another "Bill"
(Bill Porter) takes us TO the gate that is called:
The Liberation Gate.
He opens the doors of the gate but doesn't (yet) go through...
He (Red Pine/Bill Porter) calls his/the "gate":

The Whatever Gate.

try the entire film:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SVgHzfGzuU8

will pick-up this "thread" via letters or emails .... for those (interested)

William Michaelian said...

Beautiful, and then some.
Well worth the time.
Now we’ll let it work in the mind.

-K- said...

I really enjoyed the Red Pine video. I never would have thought to look for him on YouTube.

And I am now prepared to say that everything is on YouTube.

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

But...I'm not on YouTube. Neither are any of my my friends:

Alexander Pope
William Blake
Walt Whitman
E. E. Cummings
Ezra Pound
T.S. Eliot
Edgar Allan Poe
Robert Bly
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Robinson Jeffers
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Robert Service
Carl Sandburg

We are found only in books.

Sorry.

Stickup Artist said...

Oh, how I somehow needed this understanding this morning. How these words have magically lifted my burdens!

William Michaelian said...

Stickup Artist, thank you. That makes it a great moment for both of us.