Our Eternity

Lost Souls

[Mostly Instrumental]

The heart’s eye can see inside.
It aligns.
The line’s alive, behind the mind the wise reside.

Voices fly.
The guiding lights.
Captive and frail, held in time.
It wasn’t their time, time to go.
They still have work, you know.
Let them complete through us…
and go into the Light.

The Blizzard (of Roses)

[dedicated to the strength in me – inspired by “The Blue Bird“]

Martyred rose…
alive in the blizzard,
reaching petals toward the light,
bless’d the promise of the night.

I rose one morning to a blizzard.
The wint’ry wind blew snow deep in my way
and I knew a storm was coming,
So I set out to find what debt I had to pay.

Sleep and Death, Sleep and Death
representing its last breath.
Just to meet – the dead in the
house of the unborne;
the rose knows about Death and Sleep!

…and the spell of the absent one moves forth.
And the wisdom of the deepest
holds the weeping eye so dear -
to chase away the fear.

Encountering the waiting ones
who seek their incarnations.
Slashing at their natural zeal,
we’ll scorn the sweet sensations.

Deep in the new theatre
lives the flaming youth
where the transformation quickens
and the plot of life thickens.

Can’t speak to an absent mind
that smothers such impressions.
wonder is enlightenment
in its truest expressions.

…and the spell of the absent one moves forth.
And the wisdom of the deepest
holds the weeping eye so dear -
to chase away the fear.
To chase away the fear.

The Great Joys

[a journey through past, present, future]

rushes from inside and I’m feeling so alive
to experience the joys in the Land of Memory.
So take me to the Kingdom of the Future
where in the rose-awakening
my water’s smile is amber dew
and blue of dawn can’t break
the harmony of the whole.
I’ll carry all that’s wanted
to give new light
to the dimmest eyes so they can see
on the inside.

Mystic drama moves within
as I want eternal present.
And the evil that devours me
is the fruit of my own choice.
And when my intuition fails,
I ignored that still small voice.

Let the heavens weep -
and the stars will rain -
to heal and cleanse -
my deepest pain.

I’ll catch the rein
of truth and ride away.
Escape me to the shadows of my inner world
where I’ve lost my laughter behind silent doors,
and cried such sorrow;
endlessly I paced the floors.
To poison all these joys
and destroy my own inner child
is the crime I can’t forgive… oh no!
In the great beyond
is an unknown guest
who hides such secrets in treasure chests
where I should find locked inside
the hidden riches of the soul
just waiting for me
to bring them to the light -

These Great Joys – RUSH – in me!
RUSH – in me.

Living in the Afterlife

[the Unknown Host (intuition) talks to the eternal voices]

Knowing the unknown
I cannot reveal the Unknown Host.
My mind is just a passing ghost.

Living on the long-forbidden path,
feeling the emotion of the aftermath,
intuitions flow and impulse knows
long-forgotten memories—

Deeper layers shed lower down, lower down.
But I believe in a world beyond.
Part of me is living in the afterlife.

We are prisoners of infinity
where nothing is lost and nothing ever dies.
We must satisfy the justices.
Our own verdicts/virtues we decide.

Let the mind break confines
to experience the new and roam free.
The search for the unknown must go on.

Awakened intuition is a powerful force.
We understand by delving in the depths.
Search the silent night of who we are.
And the inward journey through a
World of Chance can’t be imagined.
The messengers are living in the afterlife.

In the invisible sky real birds fly.
They are on their way to a sweeter destiny.
Now I feel I’m breathing in the afterlife….

My mind is just a passing ghost.
My mind is just a ghost.

The Re-Creation

[a personal healing song]

Drowning among damaged men
in the re-imagining
of the madness, loss and impossible rage.
To forgive my mother and my father
is this daughter’s victory.
I tripped in slo-mo when I
tripped off the stage.

I don’t want to be a cripple!
I don’t want to be a time bomb!
Water, blood, silence, speed… unending -
Turbulent emotions and convulsions of the soul -
The wounded healers’ never there for the mending.

Anger is the medium
that disrupts clear retrospect.
I’ve had to rebuild me from the start.
Haunted by the voiceless ghost
of my damaged, empty soul;
I’ll never be like the faint of heart:

I was borne into my mother’s madness.
I carry the despair in my heart.
I fight each day to be freed -
survival of redemption.
To re-create a new world, a new start.

They refused to hear my pain,
filling me with blind desire.
Can I still believe -
in the truthfulness of memory?
The wind chill of emotion’s bitter -
Remembering it all.
Regeneration – to re-creation;
Imagine the forgotten living of the past.

[In a near-dream-state, memory goes to the past to re-create and heal, forgive and forget]

The Listener’s Memory (with instrumental: “Birds of Eternity”)

[an artist's experience in automatic writing]

Trembling in the unknown winds,
I stand all alone.
And I’m assured of nothing as I live
- not even what’s been promised or waited for.

Marveling at these feelings -
…the forgotten treasures of the
living listener’s memory
is not a vague lost fantasy.

Crossing to the farther side of mystery,
the lovers of the honest truth
cry in their double garden
where the cloud that lifted
let the sun shine on the temple.

Monster angels in disguise showing me their other side
stare into the soul of everyone.
Yeah, into the soul of everyone!

Daughter of the World, breathlessly I go…
as love and fear and pain drive me through.
The darkness of night hurt.
My voice rose in a soaring of gold.
Glimmerings fell into the forest…
as my songs become a part of the
language of the birds.
colour spells draw in me.

I fly in the night on a scream.
I manifest the rapturous dream
and the wounded generations cope
with pain’s soft refusal to diffuse any hope.
Debt of meanings’ gone into the past.

Tears of mirth – fears of birth -
Bring the fight – for what is right -

The sweet listener’s memory
always trying to reinvent love.
The shelter of its harmony
can only ascend from above.

Remember the life up above!
Remember the treasure of love!

The World of the Soul

[discovering one's soul through Silence]

Outside the boundless spheres -
I greet this host with dignity.
As great thoughts form in silence,
virtues’ borne in secrecy.
The humble treasure is replete.
The frightening hour resounds -

No sooner are my lips asleep
than my soul’s awakened
(by the light-bringer of the drama)
in an arcane domain with a secret remedy,
in no passionate wars. -

Sounding the suffering of the soul -
Powerful impressions imbedded in each fold -
themselves expressions of my inner weather
(of) dimensions where the flames are cold.
And the energy completes
in the hour that found me.

Let us feel – never numb.
Let us heal – when spirits come
(listen for them)
Never sleep – I thirst for light that
moved in our flames
like a people of spirits planting stars -
Reflecting – the same rays -
the same light – the same source of joy -

I seize the moment!
Even in my depths’ decline, I am so exposed.
All that’s outside is a mask
to conceal the world of the soul.
The Face is a veil of defeat.
Don’t fear the stillest silence that you meet.

Time schemes become worn
of futures, pasts and presents.
But the power of the past
still weighs much too intense.
Release me from constraints of time
to heal and forgive.

Let me live – believing in free will.
Let me live – free me from free will.
Let me live – in the mystic realistic
world of the soul.

New Future

New future hasn’t happened to me yet.
New future hasn’t happened yet.

For the artist, loss and anger are the teachers.
In present’s past, weather rains so sad.
And fury runs through my veins like mad!
But the passion of beginning lets me make a new start.
I’d hoped the future’s all contained in my heart.

So I learned to welcome the night.
We all would love to live forever
in defiance of God.
I was the fated lion… never dying -
with thoughts as wide as the sky -

Now I’m a musical mystic, eyes fixed on eternity.
Past’s scarred my mind for life!
I was thrust into the fierce light
of the bright Light of the Divine.

Pastel word-pictures glimpsing the invisible,
suspension in a gaze.
Oh! Beautiful silence!
There rises the music from the secret heart.
Oh! Great defiance!
(I) sing the joy of being alive!
The chords of creation save the inner life.

Shelter me from the losses and the loss of such shelter.
I don’t want to speak with bitter music.
I’ve earned my way past the dry hell-gate.
So empty me! For the task is nigh
Remove me from the schizoid voyage
where illusions are to blame.
How can I survive for the new future?
How can I survive for the new future?


[discoveries in Silence]

Turn your inner eyes around
This matter of the moon is found.
So, pass into transition; nothing changes.
Death is a mirror of life.
Night’s great enemy is light.
It could not be attained; it stood too high.
I wish I knew insight.

Ideas take to flight -
Insight – through the diamond light.
Escape through blackness; see within the soul.
Nature is alive – it breathes and beholds
and feels as it heals – on the inside.

Moving through the spatial sphere
Death is not an end to fear.
Aspects of the force within still moving.
Believing in the heavens.
Learn the secrets of the wise.
I cannot seem to grasp; it’s still too high.
I wish I had (greater) insight.

Terrors are fearful – Mysteries are seized -
Soul-bearers ascend – They pave the way to purity -
Night will prevent secrets’ revealing.
The spirits and the angels of the Higher Mind
possess the Mystery of the Trees
and the secret remedies
changing tears to stars – in the fantasy.

Flying in creation climes,
souls of the departed speak…
continuous telepathy rapport.
Making magic mirrors work Divine
Dreaming the same dream of all time
When I feel I can attain; I’m not too high -
I’ll start to gain insight.

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