Mental leaves that fall as rhymes,
Images imprinted in matter,
A laser light-show of forms that are –
Blinking beacons of immortality,
In the darkened auditorium of the Uni-versity,
Where the students are all looking for a sign,
That there really is a trail that leads to the Divine.
Motes of light bending slightly,
The curves of Isis shining nightly,
But too busy looking for a resurrector,
The audience fails to see the projector,
Assuming the objects are where they appear,
Watching, not seeing, not listening to hear,
Their dreams are dashed before they land,
Those distant visions appear close at hand –
So, broken-hearted lovers' hopes,
Ensnared and hung by matter’s ropes,
Mocking the cynics, denying all;
It is jilted lovers who caused the fall.
Embracing the emptiness but not beauty,
A hollow quest, a pointless duty,
From selfish love of the manifestation,
To mindless, empty masturbation,
Neither is endless, joyful embrace,
Or ecstatic, immortal hunger for grace.
The secret is, we are students learning,
And our journey is powered by loving yearning.
The hunger to hold the Beloved’s breast,
Is the power that drives our endless quest.
So, feel the loss and separation,
Let it pull you deep into meditation.
And just when you think that all is gone,
Cry out with love the name of
Copyright 2019 Jeffrey Armstrong All Rights Reserved