The Ultimate Treasure Hunt

In the confines of our home,

We set a trail of clues for one another.

Each leading to a hidden spot in a different room,

Where a small chocolate and a further riddle awaits.

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Eyes alight with excitement, we puzzle our posers,

Forage fruitlessly, or gather gainfully.

Beset with impatience, we plead for help.

Until, spurred on by each unveiling,

 

By the joy from surprises gifted,

Our tireless wonder is rewarded.

We find, hidden behind the logs, or the curtain,

A magnificent Easter egg.

 

As lockdown continues, innumerable desires,

 Cry for my attention; to home-school more effectively,

Spring clean, teach online, study, garden, cook, play better with my son.

Each a seemingly urgent demand of action and effort.

 

Until, exhausted by the relentless juggle,

Beset by migraines, fatigue and allergies,

I check in with my marker, my inner guide.

And a glimmer of understanding shines through.

 

The next day, in the dappled sunlight of our local wood,

Brightly coloured ribbons hang from branches,

Chalked arrows inscribe tree trunks,

Indicators for countless paths, leading in myriad directions.

 

I now see that these are mere distractions,

Dead-end tracks, or entangling brambles.

Requisite diversions from the enchanted woodland clearings,

Borne through deep surrender within.

 

Aglow with the soft hue and gentle sway of bluebells,

The dazzling greens and abundant energy of spring,

I drink in His boundless Love, and a gem is revealed.

I see myself reflected in His radiance.

 

We try different tracks, miss markers, lose ourselves,

Distracted by balancing on branches, befriending robins.

Until, at the end of the pink chalk arrow trail,

We find a love heart etched on an upturned log.

In the Eye of the Storm

Rain lashes, wind whips,

Trees uproot, rivers burst their banks,

A torrent of chaos floods our world,

Roads closed, electrics down, homes battered.

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                                                            Source: Mimadeo                                                   

 

I batten down our hatches,

Light the fire in the hearth,

Drink tea, play games with heart aglow,

In appreciation of the refuge of home.

 

In tandem, a deadly virus swarms the globe,

Spreading fear, panic and terror.

A surge of turmoil assaults the senses,

Jobs lost, isolation forced, mortality faced.

 

Within this havoc, I have a choice,

Of where I place my attention.

In the tumult of the tempest,

The everchanging mayhem of the outer.

 

Or in the eye of the storm,

Where fear, apathy, and misplaced loyalties,

Dissolve. All must be let go,

For the sanctity of His refuge within.

.

 

The urgency to support friends, neighbours,

The dread of risking lives, the noise of media,

All rise in a frenzy, an intense inner storm,

Until I soften and open in to Love.

 

The deeper this surrender,

The greater the fire of His Love.

Until it eclipses all,

And my candle becomes His flame.

 

And this mountain of Love within,

Becomes the axis of my being.

All thoughts, words, actions,

A divine co-creation.

 

In the storm’s wake, a trail of blessings unfolds.

Debris shifts, new channels open.

Seeds spread by high winds sprout,

Flood plains become verdant pastures.

 

In the aftermath of the Now,

Exquisite blessings emerge.

For I choose surrender,

The rest is divine alchemy.

 

The sun rises.

Clouds part to reveal a rainbow.

A veil lifts for the whole of humanity,

A new light on an evolving world.

The Divine Illuminator

Some days I feel engulfed,

Smothered by the tenacious fetor,

Of past misdeeds, untrue words or harsh thoughts,

That weaken me so I curl up and hide.

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Under a warm duvet of pretence,

False comforts of rich food and wine,

I find paltry balm. Until I awaken,

To the debris I’ve buried myself in.

 

I curse myself for dwelling,

In these dark dingey parts of me.

Yet my attention is stuck here,

Entrenched in dank sticky mud.

 

It’s like a flashlight is exposing all,

This ugly dross I’ve hidden from myself.

The anger that I’d stashed under the carpet,

The grief that I’d placed out of sight.

 

“It’s a gift”, He whispers gently,

Lifting the veil I’d placed over my eyes.

And I see the illuminator of this pain,

The bearer of the torch, is my Beloved.

 

He shows me how each hidden gripe,

Each speck of vanity, fear or remorse,

When seen in the gaze of His compassion,

Is a precious lesson in what I am not.

 

We sweep them up together.

Dredging the channels of my consciousness,

Of these memories, gathered like driftwood,

That weigh me down and block my view.

 

With the eyes of a lioness,

Batting away her precocious cubs,

I throw these children of my creation,

Into the river of His abundant love.

 

And embrace the wisdom they bring.

Unexpected truths gained through harsh experience,

Hard fought attainments released in an instant’s clarity.

The purpose of all lifetimes revolutionised in a flash.

 

I watch the chaff being washed away,

 In a torrent of love that fills my being.

And see that the agony of this illumination,

Is just a calling to embody what I truly I am.

 

In this divine alchemy,

This dissolving of particles no longer needed,

The true me becomes clearer, lighter.

Ready to rise up to a greater radiance.

Small Talk

My neighbour drones on and on,

Swarming my being,

With his relentless plan of attack,

Against the box tree moth.

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A woman releases a torrent of gossip,

Drowning me in needless babble,

About people I barely know.

This small talk is not for me.

 

I want to see the depth in you,

And let that spark the depth in me.

Go oyster diving together,

For that rare pearl of truth.

 

But then I see before I dive,

I first must learn to swim.

To search for precious pebbles in the shallows,

To seek and see the glimmer in the trite.

 

And practice being a mirror, to reflect that glimmer,

Imagine it a glow, and so it becomes.

As when I connect with my inner Beloved,

My flickering candle grows into a roaring flame.

 

And so He shows me that the world is banal,

When it confines one’s point of view.

Its richness only truly vibrant,

 When viewed from the magnitude of His divine lens.

 

Thus I surrender, relinquish all,

Angst, hopes, thoughts and desires,

To my Beloved within.

So He can clear the grime that blocks my view.

 

And through the agony of this cleansing,

My flame burns brighter, my mirror shinier,

To reflect a deeper Love and Truth within,

That shower sparks of effervescent joy.

 

Small talk is now for me,

The ‘talk’ could be a glance, a touch or smile.

For every action, word and thought,

Holds the potential to ignite a deeper sense of being.

Emergence

The acorn, locked in its hard encasement,

Pushes down roots holding it fast,

To the dark dirt of the earth.

In blind effort it forges strong foundations.

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Image: Bildagentur Zoonar GmbH

The caterpillar, ensnared in its chrysalis,

Constrained, contained, yet of its own making.

The guise of outer stillness belies the inner metamorphosis,

A deep surrender to the unknown to come.

 

The chick, locked inside its hard eggshell,

Dark, safe, secure and warm,

Outgrows the comfort of its entrapment.

The strength to break free wells up from within.

 

Urged on by the warm glow of the sun,

A vibrant green shoot pushes up into daylight.

Through resistance it finds its strength,

A journey of becoming a magnificent oak.

 

Stretching its wings against the wet chrysalis,

A startling azure blue butterfly takes flight.

A new lightness and grace to its being,

As it glides and flutters across the spring sky.

 

The soft tap of the chick on its shell,

Becomes more forceful, more pointed,

Until it bursts out of its former refuge,

With the courage to face a brand-new world.

 

Ready to leave the blind comfort of the known,

I learn to spar more playfully with my limitations,

As I challenge the very fabric of my conceptions,

And surrender ever deeper to each resistance.

 

I step out of the carnage of my own making,

And dance and twirl in the fields of creation,

Unfolding inwards to the wisdom, power and love of my Beloved,

I grow my wings and begin to soar.

Be The Ocean

I am a stagnant pond

Entrapped by binding reeds.

Boulders bar my flow,

Whilst thick green algae

Blocks the sunlight and suffocates my essence.

Glistening ocean

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My water is murky, my vision impaired.

Stuck in the putrid stench, I flounder.

Drowning in illusory impressions

Of what and how life should be.

 

You gracefully dip your swan wing on my surface.

A beam of clarity ripples through my being.

I sense in the spaces between the muck and mire,

A burning desire to be something other, to be free.

 

You lift me up and show me your vista.

Verdant pastures and tinkling brooks,

Flowing merrily into rumbling rivers

that tumble effortlessly downstream.

 

You fly on and show me the ocean,

A great sea of love, pure and clear.

Glistening, sparkling, its reflection dazzling,

Its divine radiance igniting a spark in me.

 

Tenderly you whisper ‘You are the ocean’

And I feel a surge of power and love glow inside.

Gently you place me back in my pond

But graced by your vision, now I see.

 

That when I turn my face from the reeds they no longer ensnare me.

When I dwell on You, your rays of love burn the algae away.

When I behold the boulders through your gaze

They soften and erode into nothingness.

 

In truth, I am no pond, no river

But a shining spark of the great ocean Divine.

Your wisdom, power and love become me

For I am the radiant ocean of love within.

 

P.S. If you enjoyed reading this post, I’d so love it if you left a comment to share what resonated with you (or didn’t) and/ or any experience of your own inspired by this poem. My intention is that this blog becomes an interactive experience. Thank you!