glimpses

it seems

our living purpose

is to realize..

no matter our

alertness

truth suddenly grasped

novel art expressed

new science discovered..

our steady state

in this moment

and in all moments

is that we remain

in slumber..

waking

is a soon

extinguished light..

a glimpse departed 

a glint in a flowing stream

an ocean wave at peak..

remembering

brings recycling

an expectation for

one more glimpse

and perhaps more...

reflection
on the words above
we no doubt find
a pallor of unease..
how might a
waking more enduring
 expand our moments
and our day..?
would it serve
 to ask about
those glimpses fleeting..
are they ours
alone...?

words

there are words

beyond understanding

and those

closeby with meaning..

then there are others

standing between..

these enable our lives

invite searches

promise possibilities

of everywhere finding

a connecting light..

these connections are

 overlooked often

found on borders

on our paths

unassuming..

but when gone

all disappears..

simplest perhaps

a connecting 'and'

a lighted circuit

showing anew

both this and that...

bird songs

a feathered message

for us today..

a hidden songbird capacity

for learning then forming

a song out there..

in our parallel plane

a gifted capacity to speak

but first a language

to learn

with toil and sweat..

the songbird and we

it now seems

 at once are

creator and creation

a mutual stimulation..
becoming our song...

near death experience

there are many on record

the caves

the tunnels

the blinding light..

a hesitation

on the line

between life and death..

so many forms of death

each with corresponding life

these deaths

a passing of day into night
a passing storm

dark passages

each exhalation..

in each of these

a transition is reached

life and death not distinguished

the tunnel becomes

is the light..

so we read the reports

awakening

to life's primary

signal...

the secret

one panoramic field

enclosing many

 these many are seen

glowing with full confidence

each one standing alone..

the one field permeating

the many

and the many
the field..

this is the

secret..

without which

separate fragments

take form..

corresponding to 

each and every

stress and pain..

fragments well disguised

awaiting

discovery of the

secret...

crying out

a time arrives

in each day

each moment

to locate the night..

discover in day

one brief suggestion

of night

one glimpse of sorrow

a sliver of moon

in bright daylight..

this is enough

energy and courage

to find the night

sustaining the day

and the day

the night..

in each moment

we discover a cry

of pain

of joy...

serving

working for others

makes one poor..
special identity denied
one's voice deeply hidden

inner beauty suppressed..

livelihoods are exile
protections are dear

yet servitude keeps rule..

a new time

demands correction

 straightening posture

a new discovery..

each of us stands

as connector
of many and one
one's voice found at last
exile ended
though we.. remain
here...