THE WORKS OF WARREN SUNKAR

In Chorus With Wolves

We stood overlooking a city. In the distance, the streaming and flickering lights of neon and traffic thriving upon a circuit board of streets lit up the nightline before us through a dull smoky haze. The strange and mixed sounds of civilization, ever constant, ever present, echoed to our ears from below. Holding one another, we looked out into the vastness of space as the sun disappeared beyond sight and shadow spread across the world.

Babylon had risen before us...

As timid children we stand before this darkness with fluttering hearts, breathless and vulnerable as the wails of earth reach fever pitch. Wayward humanity now chained to its dying world. Hiding behind its fear and ignorance in a futile attempt to escape from that which must come to pass, do we stand today over a global civilization that shall now collapse fast upon itself.      

My friend, took my hand firmly and I welcomed her.

“Has it come to this?” she whispered, as a tear ran down her cheek, her eyes reflected my own hearts sorrow.

 “What does come, must be”, I whispered to her ear. “This wayward world does defy its soul and the dark night of these times settles upon us. This worlds lost children in their defiance and arrogance now turn upon themselves in their futility and desperation. Humanity has denied its true birthright.”

Her body shuddered at the great travesty of human life opened in the great drama unfolding before us.

She openly wept, “ Forgotten is the song of Love upon this earth. A growing madness possesses the world, the darkened gods of man are failing and their keepers cry for blood. The rulers seek to throw such a chain around this world that they may break humanities back. Loud is the cry of arrogance and falsehood, wolves circle and the shadows of fear taunt and dance around us.

Would we dare weather this storm when it is all so hopeless?”

 I answered, “Today, upon this fallen earth we walk within the growing madness and tensions of these times. Do not succumb to those waves of fear and despair that can temporarily engulf us. In these days of darkness and confusion, let us find our repose in the silence of our hearts and forget not our heritage as children of God. We are called to stay true to our deepest hearts calling.”

 Her eyes glittered in the moonlight.

 I whispered “ The veil of earth often seems so impenetrable and thick, yet these images that parade before us are not real. Do not identify with this transient reality. Though Love may seem to hide its face in such times it is ever present for those whose hearts are faithful and pure.”                             

“These are the days warned us by the prophets and seers of humanities past. And in this darkest hour we are those who are called to stand amidst this almighty tempest.”

“We are guided by the great truths sung upon the lips of those avatars that have walked this fallen earth for us. And remember, though the passing storm may eclipse the light it cannot vanquish the sun.”

Her hands tightened in mine. “I need to remember!”

“Then still yourself and surrender unto the will of the Father. Let the cares of the world fall away for in truth they have no substance. “

Her eyes looked deep into mine searching their depths and then together we looked up. In the timelessness of a sigh we let go as the living torch of love between us flared.  The clouds of confusion and obscurity were dissolved and the light of Love divine glowed around us and a wave of ecstasy rippled and pulse through us.

She cried out in tears of joy “I remember”

With blessing of angels, in the darkest of nights, looking out over the city did we dare sing loves song upon fallen earth.  Carried upon the winds did it find its way into the hearts of those who were open.

 The earth tremored under our feet, as lightning rippled around us.

The rulers faltered and the wolves whimpered and in their howls of fear joined us in chorus…

Our hearts gave praise.
 

Ayahuasca Dreaming

It was just after sunset and we sat upon the floor.
As I poured the brown liquid I briefly pondered the unexpected synchronicities that had bought us together for such an event. A tingling sensation went through my body and I was aware that the plant was speaking to me. I smiled, we had heard the stories of others and now it was time for an experience of our own.
It was said that the teacher plant had a consciousness that would communicate with those who received it with an open mind and heart.
In an unspoken trust we shared a couple of bowls of the brew between us not knowing what to expect and the four of us drank down the bitter potion with distaste.
As the bowls were drained, we lay upon our backs surrendering to a metaphysical journey into the unknown…

Staring at the ceiling, slow, conscious minutes ticked by…
Nestling into the thin mattress underneath me, my sense of self began to softly dissipate into a soft ethereal glow that gently infused me with splashes of warmth that washed through my body.
Rising, dissolving, expanding into greater freedom, my diminishing consciousness of time slowly began dissolving in vapors of love as my awareness of five sense reality began melting like butter upon a stovetop.

Relaxing, we lightened to become unexpectedly aware of a spritely spirit of earth. Feminine and playful, she darted and hovered between us in a loving and flirtatious dance. Playing with us in a sensual and unabashed manner she caressed all those who were in the room. Diving through the air, she washed herself through me, kissing me on my lips as I laughed in delighted surprise.
I could feel her healing ethereal touches all over my body as her voice whispered beautiful imagery into my mind as my body shivered in blissful response.
I laughed out aloud as she poked my stomach in a soft jest to let me know she could condense and materialize.
As she played, two other kinds of earthen spirits were unveiled and lovingly nestled into my side. I lay on my back stroking them gently as they nuzzled me in a sweet affection.

As I lay there, I could hear and feel my friends around me. Each one was sharing such an experience as the spritely earth spirit swam around the room blessing each of them with her delicious aura that bathed those she touched in kisses of bliss as she whispered visions and voices of love and affirmation.

Shutting my eyes, resting deeper into the experience, the veil of the unseen dissolved before me. We could understand that the Ayahausca plant was a living key and energetic link to that which was the spirit of the earth.

Suddenly I could feel the ethers above us deeply stir as a dimensional portal opened.
A quickening pulse took me from within and I felt the presence of the Great Guardian.
I looked up as this ultraterrestrial of light opened the gateway above me to touch my aura with its rainbow of colors and energies.
Unlocking within a deep remembrance, I felt a strong kinship and affiliation with this great multi-dimensional intelligence and I gasped in splendor as this benevolent insectoid drew back the dimensional veils between us and the vibrations of light quickened through the room to engulf us all.

Shutting my eyes, I was raised into an exploding fractal vision of shimmering colors and cascading rivers of pulsing living energies. Waves of ecstasy washed through my body as I launched into the pool of lights around me.
A chameleon of changing vibrations, I shifted gently yet swiftly through the thin veils of dimension. Twirling and spinning in a dance of joy with the ease and grace enlivened from a remembrance, experienced beyond the confines of body consciousness.

Suddenly I found myself standing in a jungle clearing.
Bright psychic light shimmered all around as exotic birds and insects in symphony adorned the spectacular vision of the world I stood within.
Before me stood four shamans. They were ancient ones, powerful and impressive as they bowed solemnly.  Awe inspiring in their headdress of colorful plumage, I bowed in the presence of these teachers. Then in silence we sat in a circle and communed with closed eyes.

I began to fall backwards and upwards into the vast expanse of space as images flashed rapidly through my minds eye in a collage of information.

I received a forgotten history of secret and dark things. All hidden today behind a movie version of reality, within which we are manipulated and maintained by the nefarious keepers of our world. I cried out in horror as alien beings looked upon humanity with cold, predatory eyes.
A profound sadness took my heart as before me opened a storyboard of tragedy. Holding me in an embrace of love, the teacher plant guided me to a deeper understanding of the mostly unseen happenings here upon this earth.

Humanities sad history entwined with these Greys.
These lost and foreign beings had altered the human race by genetically tampering, implanting and controlling them. Humanity has been not unlike lab rats to these foreign beings and I reeled before the sickening vision of what has happened in humanities past and what goes on still today from the shadows.

The visions and teachings came with an increasing rapidity which downloaded through my awareness as the teacher plant communicated, helping me to understand and remember.  I opened further into the experience, trusting the guidance to see the truth of the planetary situation.
The anguish of humanity took my heart as I was expanded to see how humanity was being kept from its true potentiality. How we are all being manipulated into a vibratory prison with most of the populace unknowing of their fate.
Upon this earth, all are subject to occult enslavement and are energetically paralysed by those beings that exist outside the now extremely limited bandwidth of humanities vibratory perception.

I shuddered as I saw within the dark subterranean levels of the planet reptilians hissing from the shadows.

Falling backwards I became aware once again of the presence of my friends.
The greater light pervading the room and us all from within, dissolved any sense of separation as we had all melded as one in psychic unity.
We were as open books to one another and nothing was kept hidden as we accessed each others thought streams and life waves. Hidden secrets, joys, and fears were shared between us as visual transmissions as the night went on slipping in and out of a timeless blur.
As each of our lives unravelled before one another, they were played out almost cinematically. It enabled us to observe each other’s burdens, weaknesses and lives without judgment or condemnation as we all saw from the greater perspective.
We rejoiced in the experience for there were only smiles in such a union as the teacher plant guided us all through the moment with a loving embrace.

I became aware of my partner lying upon a couch behind me, beginning to stir, as the teacher plant revealed to her that which she found difficult to accept.
 Following her energy steam, I opened to her, sharing a vision of great tribulations coming to the planet. She witnessed humanity losing itself to madness and savagery, opening itself to planetary destruction.

She was openly weeping and shaking her head at such a possibility. I was inwardly motioned to go to her. I kneeled next to the couch and gently put my arms around her as she burrowed into my chest. Holding her, comforting her, I ran my hands through her hair as she curled foetally, tears running down her cheeks.

As I shut my eyes again a pre-earth remembrance awoke from within both of us.
As stars we flew through space beyond the heavy and suffocating clouds and confines of earth density, playing as children of Love. We saw our life threads circling and entwining in a dance of joy and innocence as we felt our connection run much deeper than the short relationship that we share in our earthly personalities.
Then we saw others of our greater family, stars of light, responding to the cry of Gaia and her humanity as we answered in a wave of Love to descend and penetrate into the darkened sphere of earth, to seed this planet for its birth into its cosmic initiation.

The night sped on as we all throbbed in ecstasy, plunged into a vortex of imagery and unutterable revelation, unfiltered by the limitations of mind.
Each message personal yet shared, as each of us taking that which was meant for them. The playful spirit darting and dancing between us all, giving healings and comfort as each of us gasped or laughed at the revelations and messages given them.

Then softly, in an inner dawning of soul stirring and arousing, not unlike a soft crescendo of a playing violin, a haunting song arose within the inner silence and its deep sadness began to take my heart as everything faded into darkness.
Majestic Gaia, like a whale of the ocean depths was singing her lament through deep space. I was flooded with the deepest of sorrow as her call brought tears streaming down my cheeks. A deep longing rose to my lips as I moaned out aloud in deepest soul pain. Humanity had forgotten their great mother and she was calling out in her great pain and distress.
As I looked out over earth in cosmic vision from space, I knew we were failing her. Great Helplessness and shame stirred from within as the acceptance of being part of the collective that was killing her washed through me.
Overwhelmed I cried and sang back to her through the vast expanse of space.
I was sobbing.

I looked back upon a wayward humanity, out of cosmic rhythm, crippled and poisoned. I cried out to them through space but they were so immersed in themselves that they could not hear.
Humanity, if you would only open and see, you would recoil in horror and shame at the madness you have unleashed. Your loving mother is in such pain, open your hearts to her for she is part of you and you of her. You have forgotten her sacrifice and how she has labored for you.
She calls for her children’s love and understanding.

As I was launched again through space, a portal opened and in a surge of light and colour I was transported in a neon blur as the great cosmic womb opened before me.
Unable to resist, I merged inside.

Wave upon wave of delightful, mystical energy rippled sensually through me.
I was a solar seed to fertilize and dissolve in liquid ecstasy as my whole body throbbed in deep rhythmical orgasm.
Energy pulsed through me as a cascading shower that launched through the fountainhead of my crown in unspeakable climax. Sparking within and all around me a beautiful fusion as in a glorious explosion of light; a conception took place.
Crowned in mystical euphoria, a bright rainbow of light shone through me as the guardian further opened my awareness.
With spurts of energy that flooded through me I was encoded with symbols of living energy like a sun shower of rain.
A living language of glyphs and geometrical shapes encoding and awakening aspects of my being to things unknowable to the lower mind.

Slowly, the pulsing began to softly steady as my aura convulsed in joy and fulfillment.
I then began to feel the energy gently leave.
The guardian and its children slowly withdrew through their dimensional vortex and the consciousness of the teacher plant slowly faded from my minds eye as the realization of time slowly began to once again infiltrate our awareness.
Our awareness of space grew as we slowly adjusted and settled back to earthly consciousness.

 Laying there, glowing, I had cuddled deep into my blanket letting go with a deep, peaceful sigh. Turning around to see smiles beaming from my friends who all just laughed aloud at the experience.

 That morning, we all walked outside renewed in life and the dawning light in a halo of soft pastels christened the horizon before us. The birds in beautiful symphony made music that delighted and raised our hearts as we all greeted the coming day.
Our heightened awareness of the life glowing through us had given us a deeper communion with our great mother. Our vibration had been raised as such that I beheld a resonance with Gaia unknown in this short sojourn upon this earth, now understanding her great potentiality.
With a heartfelt release I thanked the teacher plant as I whispered to the horizon…

And I thought…
Humanity if you would only open your little minds and hearts to embrace your own as children of Life, you would understand. You could enjoy as do birds in their morning celebration, bathing in the light of the spiritual sun.
 

Unutterable Love

As these weary eyes
Look over this darkened world
The wails of existence
Assail these ears
Separate, isolated, confused
Must one traverse this veil of tears
Humanity how you struggle
To shield the Truth from sight
Keeping each other cursed
In this never ending night

Beloved Father,
Help me to let go
Of this sufferance of life
I know this world is but a hell
Of confusion, pain and strife
We are lost in this realm
Of unquenchable fire
Chained to these planes
By burning desire
Do we sustain our own cause
At the cost of all
Every day in this prison
To reinact the great fall

Oh, Aurora of Love
Shine Through the window of this soul
Take me in thy Caring hand
Unmake me so I can be made whole
Claim me, loving Father
Anoint me with your fiery Kiss
I’m unable to deny you
Not wanting to resist

Oh, how this heart yearns
For such glimpses of light
And touches of grace

Boundless, transcendent, supernal
Before time, beyond space
 
Unutterable love
Christ calling me
Dissolve me in your radiance
To die to thee
 

TEARS UPON THE BATTLEFIELD

A young friend sat alone on the grass in the central city park unnoticed by those who were too busy. Writing poetry that surpassed her age she was a defiant heart crying in the shadows of our so-called civilization.
Struggling inwardly and bravely, her poetry whispered to me like beautiful a song that both kissed and saddened my heart.
Smiling as I approached, Madison dropped her pen and notepad in her bag and stood up to give me a warm hug. Taking her hand with a smile I guided her through those quieter and unpopulated streets and pathways. As we navigated our way through the city, we talked and laughed and the throb and blur of our surroundings went unnoticed.
Coming to a footbridge she skipped on ahead and ran up the stairs.
Sometimes we would come here to talk and reflect. A true reality check in a world gone mad and we were blessed in a simple friendship by its living flame as we struggled within the limitations of our earthly sojourn.
We walked out to the centre of the bridge, the city stood before us and its traffic moved beneath. Together, we stared out over the urban sprawl…
“Sometimes I get so scared”, she broke the silence between us.
“This civilization has lost all sense and the people go about their mundane lives in a way that no longer has any true meaning. Our society seems void of purpose, everything is confused and often wrong.”
She looked up at me questioningly, “It seems so overwhelming”
As I stood beside her, I could feel her deep concern and troubles.
“When Humanity denies truth they lose their alignment and connection to Life. The wheel turns, a new cycle begins, all that we have invested in disappears, all that we have created turns around and bears down upon us.
Should we shall seek to cling to the familiar and the comfortable now we shall find they are disappearing. The world as we know it is coming to its end,” I answered her.
Bitterly she whispered, “This world is insane. Every day our teachers, media and peers sell us lies as truth, conformity as individuality, prison as freedom.
My heart tells me that humanity has lost its way because they call this life,” she pointed out to the horizon, “when all it is, is walking death.”
“My friends succumb to this fog having lost all sense of who they truly are. Their hearts are dying and their minds corrupted by the propaganda of a decaying world order that seeks to keep them confused, sickened and distracted.”
I looked into her eyes and said.
“We shed our tears upon this battlefield as we watch the tide of death take many out to sea. Yes, today we are forced to face the collective projections of life that is going wrong. Those who can hear must arouse their hearts and hearken to Truth for if they do not wake up fast they shall drift into a collective nightmare.
This is the cost of a society heedless to the truth of the times and a people that have strayed into apathy, materialism and blind indifference.
A world that has fallen deep into self absorption wherein everyone has become so confused, weak and powerless.”
She Answered, “What you say speaks to my heart but it is so hard. Humanity has become so psychologically sick there is not enough true light to discharge this rising madness. The burden seems too great.
I feel we have been abandoned by our elders and left to fend for ourselves in a world that has lost all hope and meaning. We are a targeted and easy prey for this ruthless, material civilization that exploits its children to fatten itself.
No-one wants to listen; no-one seems to care.”
She looked away, down over the traffic.
I replied, “It takes a strong heart and mind to wade clear of this madness that threatens to claim us all. The cross of humanity is very heavy and this world seeks to deny its conscience by silencing the true servants of the race.
In their denial they have burdened their children under the weight of the age.
I took her hand, But remember… great are the forces of Love that lie beyond the periphery of human sight, humanities true guides are ever present. They shall always aid those whose hearts are sincere. I softly smiled.
She whispered, “But humanity is living so heedless to what is transpiring.
Deaf and inert do they live their lives. Their hearts so dull, their heads filled with so many trivial and dead things.
They have become so lost that they know not they are”
Fire flashed behind her eyes, “This world shall not claim me!” she worded defiantly.
I smiled at her bravery, “It is living intuitively and selflessly that is true rebellion in a world twisted in lies, selfishness and deceit. We must live from our true centre of being should we withstand this illusion as the world does roar.
Collectively we are now being forced to face our self created demons of our past as this juggernaught of civilization rises and what we have unleashed seeks to draw us into conflict and war.
We must face this openly, honestly and bravely.
She looked out into the distance, ”
Within my heart there are visions not of this world. A Remembrance of the greater life arouses from within. I have a call to inspire and awaken those who smother this sight by their own hands and foolishness.”
I whispered, “Trust in the guidance of your heart and live your life selflessly, in such a way to invoke that true grace that seeks to help you.
Let your writing be as your soul guides to serve the race.
In a time of confusion and world deceit you have the true honesty to confront those self deceptions within and around you. You arouse those sleeping hearts to their true divine nature. That is rare and to live in such a way takes a selfless heart.”
Together we looked out beyond the smog hazed horizon.
Her Voice broke, “But sometimes I feel so alone”…
I put my arms around her and a soft vibration of divine Love rippled the ethers around us. It touched her heart and she swelled with grateful tears.
I smiled, “No, you are not alone and when your work here is finished the Kingdom awaits you…
 

Through the Veil

As I sat on a park bench under the dim glow of a terrace street light, Asha walked over to me.

The deep and heavy problems of this wayward world often weighed heavily upon her heart. Often we would seek the sanctuary of each other’s company in the night and under the stars.

Staring into the darkness we held each other’s hands as we contemplated a tired and outworn humanity. A world that was merciless and harsh. A people so lost and yet so arrogant. A society so that was loud yet so afraid.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Today, we could see a collective that had become imprisoned within its own self- created madness, running into the dark chasms of its own repetitive and bloodied past. Here were a people unheeding of the signs that flashed blatantly before them...

Her eyes glistened with tears as she softly let go of my hand.

 “The people of this world are like caged animals that have forgotten that which lies beyond their bars. I feel their pain and separateness, yet, should I reach out my hand in love they would only swipe at me in fear,” she softly cried.

I looked at her, “I know why you cry, for I too shed the same tears.Humanity has lived heedless of truth and that which has been forewarned.
Now they begin to tremble before that which they have created.”

She whispered, “Great is the pressure upon their hearts and minds as the divine fire bears down.  Unwilling to face their true predicament many are burying themselves deeper in their illusions. This is only creating great pressure and engendering greater fear. Deaf to true guidance, possession grips this world. Now it shall break into madness!”                                                                                                                          
She looked up into my eyes “Why do they fail to see the truth? That until all this  egoism is conquered, the door of life will remain shut. Until the prince of this world is bought to his knees, the transcendental shall remain hidden and inaccessible. Divine Love will not find its way into the hearts of men!”

“Yes,” I smiled weakly, “Hiding in the darkness humanity revels in its madness! As the world ego struggles against itself, despair and anxiety grow.            This is the product of those who stand in fear of life, ignorant of truth.Pushing their denial into extremities, they will continue to spiral downwards into increasing fear and negativity. It is under cosmic impetus that all is being bought to the light and now there will be no place to hide as global processes accelerate and this degenerate civilization is bought its end. The divine fire will purify this world!”

“Yes”, she answered, “Driven back by the fire of Love the world ego faces its death. Hard are the realizations to be faced by those who can heed the truth of these times… as we must now struggle through the madness of this world.”
She looked at me helplessly. “This dying world order struggles to maintain its rotten existence instead of submitting to truth and humanity in its blindness would rather run to conflict and annihilation!”

I answered, “Yet by facing death itself humanity could release those qualities of heart and soul that they have buried under all their lies and deceit to understand that which is real.
If those who could but hear and understand the real liberation in truly confronting such an event, they would realize that it is time to face that which must be faced and to seek the essential. Then the false glitter of this fallen world will lose its attraction and the Truth within them could be revealed.

Then many could understand that beyond the veil of death even within all this madness… Love is waiting!”

She took my hand, “We must not partake in the growing insanity but shall bare the harsh reality and affliction of this hour. Love does summon and we are ever led onwards.”

“Yes”, I replied, “Do not fear, we are called within an hour seemingly bereft of light yet it is within this darkness that the Truth calls to those sparks that seek the greater communion. Today, only those pure at heart can heed and respond to such a call.”

Looking out into the darkness she sighed, “How do we stand within such madness?”

Taking back her hand, together, we fell on our knees in supplication.
Looking upwards towards the heavens did we still our hearts and minds as the shadows of the world danced and played around us.
Surrendering within, in the darkness of the night did the veil of death dissolve as the light supernal descended upon us.

Thy will be done…Did we pray in the deepest silence of our hearts.
 

OLDER WORKS

 

The Dawn Lovers

One night, at a village feast held in honour of his return, Seth the poet left silently into the dark night, leaving the loudness and drunken festivity behind him.

Watching him quietly disappear, his beloved childhood friend Alexandra followed him into the garden. She found him alone and sitting under the luminous moon. Sitting down beside him she took his hand. “Why do you sit out here alone?”
He looked into her eyes and smiled.

‘I sit by myself but never am I alone. Tonight I share the darkness with a bird whose cries echo throughout the valley and whose call beckons me to open my wings and fly with him. I sit by myself because who would sit with me and enjoy simple pleasures?”
“Not they,” as he pointed to the drunken and loud figures raising mugs behind them.

“You judge them harshly,” she frowned, “they are your friends and they celebrate your return.”

His face grew hard. “They celebrate themselves for themselves; I am but an excuse for their own debasement.”

Then his face softened as he explained. “They know not Love, only its pollution and those who don’t know Love cannot know Life. Those that don’t know Life cannot find Love, so they are friends to no one.”

“They would rather sing their drunken songs of ignorance than listen to the truth. They would rather glut their senses in the presence of themselves than break simple bread with a stranger.

“They would rather pass out on wine than battle sleep to watch the sun rise. They would always rather something for themselves.”

Alexandra sighed, “What you say may well be true but that is no reason for this self-imposed exile. There is no sense in your solitude. Join us back at the table.”

Then Seth squeezed her hand. “Should you talk to me in reason then I will not answer because you cannot hear. Let us leave sense and its absurdities with the drunkards inside for they will tell you that they have it and that I am mad. Here under the moonlight I sit at a table of beauty, in there I sit with emptiness.”

He looked out into the night and whispered, “You say it is I who sits in solitude but I say take a look behind you. You will see who has cut off their connection to love and you will realise it is not I who is in exile and it is not I who am mad. It is they. They who mask their tears under a veil of drunkenness.”

Then she looked back behind her…

That night two childhood lovers wrapped in each other’s arms battled sleep to watch the sunrise.
 

The Heart That Searches

One night my heart pulled me to a lonely glade on the top of a hill. In the shadows of a great tree I heard the crying of an old and heartbroken poet. Stopping at his side I sat down next to him and asked him, “what is so sad that makes a man bleed his heart’s final beats into emptiness?”

His world-weary eyes raised to meet my own and cast such a stare that my soul buckled with its heaviness. His whiskey-stained voice rasped as he held out a tear stained piece of paper in his scarred and wrinkled hand.

“This was to be the script of a boy who set sail upon the tide of his dreams and conquered the world’s pain with love and youthful passion. Now it is but a scribbled page, unfinished and dirty for the boy has returned a man, lost for words and full of painful memories. Now he faces death, fearing and ashamed, for he has done nothing but sit in the shadows of men preaching to the world from an empty bottle what it could have been, if only it had followed him but then he realised that the world had and that was its problem.”

Sobbing into my shoulder his voice broke, “I have travelled so far only to find I know so little. I am to leave a fool and a failure.”

With a comforting hand over his shoulder, I smiled. “You speak such ugliness in the presence of such beauty.”

His brow furrowed as he croaked in disbelief. “You speak of a beauty I see not; reveal its face so I may trace its lines with word in pen.”

“Then trace the lines of your own heart, the heart that searches, for its journey is the song on the lips of every living creature. Worry not, that your prose be unfinished because it is complete. Worry not, if your words are illegible or misspelled, these are words of your heart.

“Let every phrase glitter like the stars in the night sky and light the path of those who wander. Let the sailor set his course by the light you give him, and let your love steer him clear of the reefs and whirlpools that claim the unweary, for many will sail the ship of truth to foreign shore.

“Let your pain be an offering to those who wish to avoid heartache, expose your scars so that those who wish to be villainous rethink their values as to avoid the karmic whip. You have laid in the dirt so others who walked over you kept their feet clean. That is the love that cries on my shoulder this very moment, the very love that cares enough to think he has failed. Go my friend for there are arms waiting to embrace you; release your hold on sorrow and fly beyond pain.”

His head in my arms I watched death steal his fire with a stilling kiss and I closed my eyes and held his hand for I, too, knew the loneliness of sobriety.
 

THE CALL

I must leave for I hear the song of destiny and know that she sings for me. Her gentle voice, more alluring then a sirens serenade, takes my soul and caresses my broken heart, drawing out such longing that it runs down my cheeks as tears when I am alone.

She speaks to me in my dreams and asks me to leave behind all selfishness and to throw off all learning for it is misconception and to go and stand naked in the sun.

Embarrassed, I hide but she understands I am timid and lifts me out of my darkness with the warmth of her smile. She tells me not to be ashamed of my nakedness for the vanity and pride that man clothes himself in is sickness and that such a mask hides his inner smile.

She asks me to let go of yesterday for she dances not there, to be in the now for it holds no expectations and that the past I hold myself to, therein contains my suffering.

Yet I fear, for uncertainty takes me as I think about loss and worry about failure but as I look out to the horizon of love stretched out before me, I find my strength in the realisation that there isn’t any.

I must walk alone for the way to her heart is a path that only I can see.

Alone, sometimes the thought scares me but then I look into the eyes of my loved ones around me and I find them weeping. Then I realize that already we are alone and that I am hiding amongst them and them with me.

Then upon the comforting wings of inspiration my Destiny whispers, “Beloved, though you may walk amongst a thousand loving and familiar faces always will your heart yearn for me.

My call is the summons to truth, my kiss is the silence of all your desires, I am your completion in death and your birth to infinity.

Side by side, we will find comfort in each other for I will stand by you when the loving is lost and the thousand familiar faces turn away.

Hand in hand, together, we will walk into the unknown…

I must leave for I hear the song of destiny and know that she sings for me. She is a daughter of beauty, a goddess who beckons me to give chase through fields of eternity in hope that I might catch and embrace her in fiery love, where together we will shine as a single star and watch the dawn of a New World open before us…

The Selfless Flower

There was a young lady who climbed a mountain.

Her ascent was hard and lonely as she battled against the cold hard winds that constantly wanted to tear her down.

Finally she reached a plateau, high above the villagers who gossiped about her, below her.

Scarred and cut, battered and bruised, she looked out to the horizon and smiled.

It was here she would plant her garden.

From the mountain she took her stone and erected her walls.

With her soul she laid the earth.

With her love for life she gathered her seeds.

And with the fondest touch she planted them.

But with the highest of altitudes, harsher was the climate that fought her, made more miserable by the wind-lifted mockery of the villagers’ laughter that assailed her.

Yet exposed to those battering winds and bitter colds she struggled to bring life where there was so little.

Weathered she became, as many years went on, but this hardened her will to keep her garden safe from the elements that sought to destroy it.

And endure she did.

Kept going by the warmth of her heart, she watched the seeds slowly sprout.

But those seeds were young and fragile and many died, killed by the ever-growing weeds amongst them, for she had not the strength to save them all.

There were some that budded only to be torn from the ground, lost to the cold harsh wind when she was not looking, to busy trying to save others.

There were those that flowered, opened by her loving kiss, blossomed by her loving touch, but cry she would when she pruned them, unable to understand her intention to help them grow higher and flower brighter.

Still she nurtured and toiled.

But as years went on, old she became and her strength she lost, for with all that she gave it her garden gave little in return.

Only glimpses of colour and a sudden waft of loving scent but flourish it did not.

Then one morning she woke to find a frost had stolen the life from it all.

Broken and disgruntled she fell to the lifeless soil and wept.

Drained was her spirit and she knew she had not the strength to start again.

It was then a bee, who had been watching from her wall, flew down to rest on the end of her finger.

“Why is it that you weep?”

As she sobbed, “For my garden has gone and empty is my breast, for my very heart has gone into this dry, dead soil and I cry for all my effort has been in vain.”

It was then the bee smiled.

“Go to your walls and push them down.”

And with the last of her strength she did.

As they collapsed around her, she fell to her knees in awe; beyond her garden the mountain bloomed in flowers with more radiance and love then she could ever imagine.

And the bee whispered, “Upon your wall I have sat and watched you for many years. I have watched you struggle in your garden with devotion and enduring love.

I have watched your flowers grow with only the smallest of thanks for the sacrifice you gave them. But I saw the seeds of your love fly beyond your walls and flourish where you could not see them.

Stop and listen to the world around you; there is peace, for long ago the laughter stopped.

The villagers that once mocked and chastised you are now humbled as their children frolic and play in the miracle you have created.

Take a walk within the garden of your love, my giver of life and look inside yourself.

You will find the most beautiful flower of them all.

It is called the selfless flower.

It is yours.

 

CHOPS

It was my friend Dreamer who warned us.

One morning he awoke bleating in terror. “A storm is coming, a storm is coming and it is the horse that draws Death’s chariot. Take me to the Rams so I might warn them”.

The lambs laughed and the ewes told him not to be so silly.

Dreamer had always been a weird little lamb. Most of the flock avoided him and he avoided most of the flock. Preferring the company of solitude, he usually sat alone in the quieter corners of the paddock. Even I, Split Hoof, gave him plenty of distance for when I would ask him to play he would just frown and tell me not to be so stupid.

That was why I was so taken aback by his out burst.

Realising his cry had fallen upon deaf ears he turned about and went to the Rams.

Curious, I followed at a distance.

The Rams all frowned at his approach; it was unusual for a lamb to enter their feeding circle.

Dreamer walked into its centre and spoke to them. “A storm is coming; it is the horse that drives Deaths chariot. It is time for us to seek refuge elsewhere”.

At this, some of the Rams broke into laughter, though most didn’t even look up from the grain bin. Then Blockpusher, the loudest of the flock spoke, “How do you know it comes my little friend?”

“I can smell it,” Dreamer spoke earnestly.

The Rams all laughed and pretended to sniff the air and Blockpusher spoke again, “It is funny that I do not; I have sniffed many a storm before”.

“That is because you use your senses and not your sense,” Dreamer answered.

Then the Ram Readalot butted in. “Listen my little lamb,” as he winked to the others, “for many years I have lived in this paddock. Like you, when I was your age, I also held these same fears until one day I realised that it was foolish wasting my life worrying about it, so I lived it. That was many years ago and all of us here have endured many a hard season. What makes you think that this one will claim us?”

Dreamer frowned, “Because this is the storm we have asked for.”

“Why would we ask for that which could kill us, my confused little lamb? You would have us leave our beloved paddock and follow you, a lamb, into the woods to be savaged by wild dogs and hell knows what else? Go back to your friends, go back to your playing.”

Dreamer spoke forcefully. “With your contempt you have called for results and soon they will be given. I DO NOT ask that you follow me nor anyone else for that is the very reason why Death comes to claim you. I plead that you listen to the cry of your heart so you follow its song, let it take you to greener pastures. In our own ignorance we have forgotten that we are just sheep.”

Readalot grew angry. “Listen to my heart, such rubbish you speak. You, lamb, have the arrogance to tell us we are mindless sheep; you have a lot to learn you contemptuous little dropping. Best leave here before we kick you silly”.

The other Rams shook their heads in disbelief.

Dreamer snapped, “You have the arrogance to say you are not”.
Then he sighed and looked around the circle to stop at each Ram as he went around. “Now, as I stand in the presence of you all, I see what has happened. How can one listen to his heart if its sound is smothered by the sound of his own loud voice? I shall pray for you all because I see death in your eyes. His stench rides the breath of your own self-deceit; you are so proud to be stupid.”

“That is quite enough!” a voice called from the rear of the grain bin. It was Greybeard, the oldest and most respected of all Rams. “I have heard many such heretical cries of prophetic doom over the years, the lunatic fringe is always spawning such wicked yarns; best we just turn our back on our psychotic little soothsayer here. He is just a foolish little lamb.”

Then the Ram Praysabit spoke, “He has forgotten about the farmer who has fed and kept us all our lives. He will save us; I have faith in him”.

“The farmer you pray to is an idol and a lie; your faith is justification of your own wickedness” Dreamer bleated.

“You curse at the Farmer, you ignorant little devil,” yelled Praysabit, “he who has given us the benefit of his technology.

Thanks to him our grain bins are never empty and we are never hungry. Thanks to him our dams are always full so we are never thirsty; praise for him who built this fence to protect us from wild dogs.”

“How could you insult him? Have you no sense of morality? You are mad!”

Dreamer spat: “That is what has damned you. He has poisoned you and you love its taste. Contentment has made you arrogant, laziness has made you sleepy; how can you call me ignorant when it is you that speaks from a dream? The paddock is barren and your children are restless: they butt out their frustrations on each other. High on fungus and hollow thrills, they commit crimes of emptiness and don’t know why. They feel an invisible hand around their throats and do not know whose hand it is. All are crying for answers. Answers that you have forgotten from a truth that you have turned your backsides to, for your heads are in the grain bin.

“The fence that protects you sentences you, for it cannot protect you from yourselves. Your poisoned minds are left to their own poison devices. The farmer has done his job well,” Dreamer held his ground.

The Rams turned around and pointed their dags at him. Then, with a solid smack, Greybeard kicked him out of the circle. “You have gone too far lamb; you are banished from us”.

Dreamer rose to his feet and went to speak but the sheep laughed at him; using their bodies they pushed him from the flock. Dreamer bleated, “HOPE HAS TURNED TO DECEIT AND LOVE HAS GONE SOUR!”

From a distance I had heard it all. I trotted myself over to him and he spoke to me, “Split Hoof, my friend, will you not come with me?”

Shaking my little horns I declined, “Though I am lame and an outcast like yourself, I will follow the flock because it is all I know.”

“Then I must say goodbye and pray that your lame leg saves you. Hope has turned to deceit and love has gone sour. Beware the great fog my friend.”

“For when a sheep has turned arrogant, too long it has been since it has seen a wolf. So when they stand in the open, bleating loudly their self-importance, they are wingless flies demanding a hungry spider to come pay its respect.”

“I say the wolf has answered.”

Climbing to his hooves he said, “Goodbye and may your leg fail as they run towards certainty”. Then he trotted away.

Many days passed. The flock enjoyed poking fun at the words of Dreamer. Many said he would come back but as days turned to weeks I knew he was gone forever. Many said the wild dogs had savaged him, many just said he was mad.

Weeks turned into months and many a lovely day went by until one day a strange thing happened.

Bored, I sat watching the sheep grazing, mounting and sleeping and a question formed upon my lips, WHY? But as soon as it came I lost it and suddenly I couldn’t recall who I was. I asked the herd but the lambs all laughed and the ewes just bleated, “Split Hoof you silly”.

But that was not enough; something was missing but I couldn’t think what it was. Grey was all around me and I felt suffocated.

The Great Fog was upon me so suddenly that everything went black and then I realised it had always been there. My whole life I had been wandering aimlessly.



I tried to recall the last time I had seen the sun but I had forgotten what it looked like.
It was so dark that no-one could tell the left from their right or right from wrong and the sheep just kept on grazing, oblivious to the floating death around them.

Panicking, I screamed, “REMEMBER DREAMER, REMEMBER DREAMER. The Rams just frowned; they hadn’t noticed anything. The lambs all laughed and the ewes just called me silly.

Shaking in fear, I lay down and closed my eyes. Letting go to fear, I wanted death to just take me. Then, suddenly, a light lit from within and I could see.

I yelled to the flock: “The paddock is an ideal of freedom that has led you to bondage; let it go we must seek higher ground”.

The flock laughed and I then knew that I would have to go alone.

Climbing to my hooves, I looked around and found a path in the darkness. It went beyond the fence to higher ground and I let the song of my heart guide me. I climbed up the hill until I found a stable ledge and there I sat overlooking the paddock, quietly overseeing them all.

As days went by I noticed a change in the flock. One by one some of the sheep would wake up screaming.

“I am blind,” some would bleat. “We are dead,” bleated the others, and I could tell that the fog had claimed them.

Those that panicked ran into the fence, hanging themselves on barbed wire; those that cleared it ran blindly into the unknown, food for wild dogs. Some went mad eating fungus.

I would cry out to them but lost in such fear they could not hear me. I saw death coming in the distance and I saw the storm over us all.

The Rams stood around the grain bin oblivious to everything but their own loud voices. The ewes stood by the Rams; the lambs stood around the ewes. Doom hugged them all.

Then the rains of confusion started and the sheep pulled together to keep warm. “It’s just a little rain”, laughed the Rams, “Nothing to worry about”.

But that little rain turned into a great rain and the paddock began to flood. One by one they began to take notice; one by one they realised they were all in darkness and tighter they drew together. “Safety in numbers,” one of the ewes cried.

But it wasn’t until the grain bins flooded that the Rams grew nervous.

“Don’t worry,” Praysabit assured the flock, “the farmer will save us,” though he did not sound so sure of himself.

Still the rain kept coming and the Rams began to panic; finding themselves in the great fog, they began to scream. Everyone went crazy.

“We are doomed,” screamed the Rams as they trampled the ewes.

“We are all going to die,” screamed the ewes that smothered their lambs. “Every sheep for himself.”

Fights broke out everywhere as the Rams used their horns to kill the weak, standing on the bodies of others to keep themselves from drowning.

From my little island I watched in horror as dead lambs floated past me. I could hear the cries of the ewes and the panic of the Rams. I heard some of them cry, “Pray for the Farmer, pray for the Farmer” and many bowed their heads in prayer. It was then lightning flashed and thunder answered. I heard a howl in the distance.

Suddenly a car horn beeped. “The Farmer is here,” Praysabit bleated, as the choking of an engine sounded over the rain.

The sheep all cried with joy. “We are rescued, praise the Farmer”.

The farmer gave a long whistle to follow his ute; the Rams leading the way as the flock ran towards him.

I followed, but my lame leg gave out from under me. Stuck in the mud, I raised my head, helpless!

It was then I noticed something was wrong. I could smell it. They were all in such a rush they did not notice.

Limping behind them, I realised I could not catch up, “Come back,” I cried but the rain had drowned out my voice and they were too far away. “Come back.”

The Rams all cheered as the farmer opened the doors to the Big Red Shed and all the sheep filed in. Warm and safe inside, the Rams regained their composure.

“I told you there was nothing to fear,” spoke Greybeard. “I knew the Farmer would save us” laughed Praysabit.

All the Rams admonished the flock. “We told you we were right” and then the Farmer entered the shed and shut the doors behind him.

Turning around to bleat their thanks, one of the ewes started screaming as the Farmer tipped up his hat to expose his shadowed face.

Putting on an apron, the wolf picked up his meat cleaver and howled.

Outside the slaughter house I sat and listened to the screaming. Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned around to see Dreamer smiling- sad and knowing.

“I tried my hardest” was all that he said as we walked through sunny fields and I nodded my head. “I know you did my friend, I know you did”.
 

The Graveyard Vagabond

I walk in a land of ghosts.
In a city of gravestones, I hear their cries in every word they don’t speak and feel the pain in every word they do. It is a pain that burns forever within my chest because I know loneliness is an unquenchable fire. They hide in the shadows of a broken heart and cry for help but it is futile because in a world of darkness no one can find each- other.

I walk in a land of ghosts.
Who whisper words of love but how can one talk of love when they draw it from an empty well.
Who use words of trust but they are disposable for they have become disposable people. They search for meaning in the meaningless and cry murder when the loving truth lets the lie kill itself because they realise that without their lies they have nothing to protect themselves with and by destroying the truth there is nothing to remind them of who they really are.

I walk in a land of ghosts.
Empty like the land I visited before this one for everywhere they have sucked Mother Earth’s teat of all its richness and turned it into cancerous bile.
They portion it out as medicine but grow more sickly everyday. Like lepers, they watch each other fall to pieces. Sweeping their digits under the carpet, they smile their toothless smiles as if nothing is wrong. Those that are born with disease only know disease, that is their legacy to their children.

Cursed with life, I walk amongst the dead, kissing the lips of corpses. Trying to resuscitate those who will not be saved. I watch their restless spirits rattle their chains, and I hear their cries for salvation when I walk past. But I cast my eyes down because they can’t stand that I can see right through them. They look at me strangely when I ask them to awake because they do not know they are in a dream gone bad.

I think they hate me.
And how can I blame them.

For how can one not offend shadows when he tells them they have no substance in this shadow world, and how can one not expect the gravest misgivings when one talks about light and they can only picture darkness.

Best I stay silent and keep walking.
Truly, I am an outcast in this strange, ghostly land.