“Do you know what you are?
You are a manuscript oƒ a divine letter.
You are a mirror reflecting a noble face.
This universe is not outside of you.
Look inside yourself;
everything that you want,
you are already that.”
How many times in my life have I struggled with communicating with the divine?
How many nights have I sat in meditation and stillness with the prayer to open my heart wider, and wider still?
Then the light inside my heart reminds me that, for myself, poems are the codes to the vast universe. They are the very key to unlocking each and every door in my heart.
There are so many poets who hold the sacred keys; too many for me to list and touch upon. I will share these:
Alice Walker is the language of the earth, her words like honey and soil glowing in the southern California sun.
John Keats is the realm of the imagination, a fairy’s child spinning webs of pure beauty and innocent adoration.
Pablo Neruda is the sultry essence of the body, tactile and trembling, an erotic dance of passion and loss.
Whitman’s poems are the cries of the human spirit, echoing in the darkness for love, for freedom, for the right of self!
And Rumi’s poems are the very voice of the prophet. The gold and silver light woven into the tapestry of the cosmos. Always touching the face of spirit with a trembling hand, he carries the message back to us with poems of ecstatic joy.
I am always
that the gift of
is the language of