Category: Spiritual

Watching a Farm Awaken

I love the way a farm awakens
especially in the early spring
How it knows to be itself
Just like the faded red barn knows
there is nothing but the moment
What we see between sips of morning coffee

I love the morning songs cardinals sing
Chips and whistles carried by the wind
Who isn’t spellbound by how
the darkness slowly gives way to light
How the old barn never complains, or begs
for a fresh coat of red paint

I love the way the morning fog hugs low places
in the still unplowed fields
Where soon fresh ears of corn will grow
And crows will wait in anxious clusters
Sumptuous meals, Heaven’s delight

Yes, I love the way a farm awakens
especially in the early spring
There the soul knows no boundaries
Its vastness spreads in quiet repose
Across a to be defined horizon
Painting a pretty picture, a new day begins

My Dad’s Passing

My father, Donald Lowell Iannone, died this morning at 6:20 AM Central Time in Tupelo, MS. In June of this year, he was diagnosed with cancer.

Dad was loved dearly by his family and friends, and he will be deeply missed by all of us. Toot a loo, Dad. We love you!

Something tells me Dad would like to be a Country/Western singer, who also writes poetry, in Nashville in his next life. (Smiles)

Click here to read about Dad’s poetry. I will be posting more about my Dad in the near future.

My sincere thanks to all sending me and my family their thoughts and prayers over the past several months.

As Above, So Below

All that is above
is also below.
The invisible inside
eventually is projected outward.

What takes form outside reflects back,
like the pond’s perfectly still surface,
allowing the soul to glimpse itself,
if only for a fleeting second,
before dissolving like the day into night.

The world around us appears and disappears
with each turn of the psychic wrench,
tightening and loosening our grip
on all coming and going as reality.

All springing from the inner depths
eventually is planted
in the outer mirror
for all to see.

As above,
so below.
As above,
so below.

Click here to hear me read this poem.
I explain the meaning of this poem in my reading of it.

A Soul’s Promise

I will forever be yours–
to keep, and hold
in your heart, where
you can always find me, and
where time stands still, and
nothing gets between us, because
there is no separation, when
a heart is filled with love, that
binds and holds us together, like
cloudless blue sky, beaming
with golden sunshine.
I will forever be yours, because
I am your soul.

Click here to hear me read this poem.

We Are All Blind

We are all blind,
even those of us
who can see
with our eyes.

We are blinded by:
the incandescent light of day,
the thundering sound of darkness,
by what we take to be knowledge
and also ignornace,
and by what we believe is real and right.

Every word we use colors our world,
strips it of its shapelessness,
robs it of its completeness,
and separates it into pieces
that we struggle against
to find a meaningful connection for ourselves.

All poets are blind.
Ask any one of them,
and they will tell you
they cannot see
past their own verse
and the hideous curse
it casts upon them.

We are all blind,
even those of us
who can see
with our eyes.

Stop worrying about
what your eyes can and cannot see,
and just open your heart.
From there, you can see perfectly.

Click here to hear me read this poem.

Also, see the post immediately below.

Borderlines and Boundaries

If we are not careful
our lives turn into nothing more
than borderlines and boundaries.

If we are not careful
these borderlines and boundaries
splinter our sense of reality
and cause us to see separation
when there is only connection.

If we are not careful
our lives end up having more limits
than possibilities to grow into.

How can all this be?
It’s easy.
We decide that our life is about judging
rather than simply experiencing
whatever we encounter in life.

We form preferences that exclude
fresh new experiences.
And from these preferences
habits and conditioning grow
that we take to be who we are.

That is not who we are.
We are that which comes before
all preferences, habits, and conditioning.
We are boundaryless beings
without independent form
that cannot be separated from all else
we consider to be the universe.

Contrary to what we may think
reality is not a fixed thing
with clear starting and stopping points.
Rather it is more like the sky, a river, a conversation,
or a loose thought or feeling
that flows without fixed boundaries.

If we are not careful
our borderlines and boundaries rob us
of our joy, well-being, and happiness,
and they leave us barren
of the very life we seek.

Be the boundaryless being that you are.

Light and Dark

Light and dark, both parts of one.
Never one without the other.
From darkness, light is born.
From light, darkness takes root.
Never one without the other.

The dance of life, always in between.
Light casts its shadows.
Darkness in those shadows grows.
Night gives way to day.
Day turns back what night has given.
Sun and moon always in twilight dance.

Each soul a dance from light to dark,
and then back to light.
No escaping darkness’ fall.
No escaping light’s return.
Light and dark, both parts of one.

Click here to hear me read this poem.

The Battle of Bands on Religion

Religious belief.
Few topics are more hotly debated,
and yet most debates go nowhere
except in closed circles
always meant to be left open.

There are debates between circles of belief,
like Christianity and Islam, and
there are debates within circles of belief,
like what different brands of Protestants believe, and
there are debates within circles within circles of belief,
like what different brands of Christian fundamentalists believe.

Most all appeal to an authority,
which they claim is the highest, but
how can there be any truly final authority,
when there are so many?
There can’t be.

The good news is that most belief systems
point to something higher,
which, in one way or another,
helps us keep our insidious egos in check.

The bad news is that most religious debates
seek to emphasize differences
and ignore what all share in common,
which is that none have the answer for all.

Many have tired of the ranting and proselytizing
of organized religion, and have chosen
to label themselves spiritual.
But I find even the spiritual camp
to be overflowing with debates
about who really knows the real deal
when it comes to the Divine.

And then there is the ongoing raging debate
between science and religion,
which makes me laugh, as now we watch
both using consciousness as a fulcrum
to lift up their ideologies.

So what are we left to believe?
Believe what you will, but remember
that whatever you believe
can and will limit what you know.

As for me,
I am writing this poem,
instead of sitting in some hard church pew
on this Sunday morning.

Click here to hear me read this poem.

This poem was prompted by a recent exchange with one of favorite aunts about religion and spirituality. By the way, neither of us won the debate. 🙂

Meditation on Highest Callings

Help me linger
in the morning sun.
Help me soak up
its powerful warming rays
that fall like velvet
through the trees.
Help me dance
in unending circles
in the scented breeze
blowing gently
across the yard.
Help me never again deny
the magic
that life sweeps across me
in every breath I take.
For then
I have reached my highest calling
in accepting
what life does bring.

Click here to hear me read this poem.

A Day Without Expectation

Some mornings, even before
we launch out of bed,
we set expectations
about how
the world should be.

Some days,
we form ideas too quickly
about what we want
from the world, and
in so doing,
we preclude truth’s possibilities,
which can set us free
of the illusions
growing inside our dreams.

Just this morning,
as I shrugged off last signs of the night,
I set demands on this very Sunday,
which greeted me
with cheerful chirping birds
and a slight breeze,
rustling the young spring leaves
in the nearby forest.

Fortunately,
a tiny voice inside
nudged me back to reality:
let this day be what it is, and
may you befriend the surprises
that it brings.

Blue Sky Meditation

A perfectly blue sky
hung overhead
all day long.

Something about such a sky
makes you wonder deep and wide.

Something about such a sky
makes you release yourself
just a little bit more
than you ordinarily do.

Something about a sky
without clouds
makes you carefree
and almost endless.

Something about such a sky
unfetters you
releasing you from yourself
and letting your heart float
like a bright red balloon
into the sky’s vastness.
And there
you disappear
and become the sky.

Don’t Forget Who You Are

Don’t forget
who you are.
Never lose sight
of what makes you real.

Don’t forget
who you are.
Always remember
what makes you special.

Don’t forget
who you are.
Forever see
the beauty
surrounding
who you are.

Don’t forget
who you are.
Just for once
look at yourself
and how wonderful
you really are.

Don’t forget
who you are.
Close your eyes
and imagine yourself
and why you’re here.
There is a reason.
There is a reason
why you’re here.

Don’t forget
who you are…

Reflecting on Our Karma

So much karma to work off,
In this life and the next,
So many little things we scoff,
No need to write in this life’s text.

Through life, through life,
We walk and we walk,
At times, it seems too much strife,
So we talk and we talk.

There’s no undoing what’s done,
And no changing what’s happened,
Wherever we are, a new chance has begun,
A better life ahead to be captained.

There’s no good looking back,
Or feeling ashamed,
Or searching for a new tack,
For some life still to be named.

What’s done is done,
And life goes on,
What’s done is done,
And life goes on.

Getting Past Ourselves

Our biggest struggles
in life
are with ourselves.

Some escalate
into battles, and some
into life-long wars
that take
the best part
of who we are.

And
when we lose
that part
of ourselves,
the struggles deepen,
causing the battle lines to grow,
exposing more of us
to even more
of what consumes us,
breaking us down,
and ultimately destroying
any hope we have
for peace.

The answer is
always the same,
and that is to surrender;
letting go of all
that causes us to struggle,
including even
our desire for peace.
For as long
as we struggle
even for peace,
we remain
at war with ourselves.

Shall We Dare

Shall we dare
linger one more moment
and let the warm morning sun
fill us with peace and comfort?

Shall we dare
lie perfectly still and listen
to the rhythmic beating
of our hearts resting in love?

Shall we dare
forgive ourselves for what
we so much more easily
can forgive another?

Shall we dare
stray from the known path
and explore one not known
during our daily walk through life?

Shall we dare
grant another blessings
that we ourselves
cannot possess?

Shall we dare
accept what we always questioned
and question
what we have always accepted?

Dare we shall
all this, and more
and in so doing
allow the life we love to appear.

Less Than Perfect

Less than perfect;
that I am.
And I would guess
so are you.
Please don’t worry about
the imperfect me and you
for it gives us all
something tomorrow
to live for.

Less than perfect;
certainly I am,
and all you need do
is shadow me
for just one day to see
my bumbles,
and stumbles, and
otherwise unflattering falls,
separating me
from the angels
about which
I so often dream.

Less than perfect,
I shall always be,
for I know not how
to perfect be.
That fact alone
does guarantee me
a starting role
in the next life
where once again
imperfect I shall be.