May 27, 2013

Spirit Is Matter, Matter Is Spirit. {Poem} ~ Edith Lazenby

Where Do I See God?

In my mother, my father,

The cats at my feet,

The husband at my side,

The sunrise, etching the sky

With pinks and oranges and purples,

The eagles that fly high and the curled

Raccoon, roadkill, death’s accident

Holding belief at bay, as if life’s question

Ended in a heartbeat, when the spirit

Lives even after breath and the rattle,

That final call that takes us to a home

We forget we knew, loss like a hunger

That is never satisfied, we embrace faith

In lieu of fear, mysteries cradled in birth

Lead us into a life of questions that need

No answer, as if a god or a Buddha or Krishna

Could be drawn with a line of human logic,

As if what I believe could be explained

In images that have no face, unlike the murdered

Flashing across a screen on our television,

I choose to believe there is reason though

I may find none; I choose to know what I believe

Cannot be wrought out of fact or reeled into religion,

Only living long enough to know what is,

Is not all there is, visiting places from my mind

That have no walls, no space in time, but I know

What is real goes beyond into dreams

And the unknown and seen—the cracks in my mind

Show me truth’s cloak cannot be held in Purusha

And Prakriti but on a note in a song that buries

Nothing in a grave, vibration being all that is,

Spirit is matter and matter, spirit: energy cannot

Be destroyed so form becomes mark and maker

That holds us with or without a faith

Keeping what is in moments close and dear.

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Editor: Kate Bartolotta

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