So Many Rivers to Cross
The Name that Binds
You have made me endless; This vessel is but A bud in the spring, A flower in the summer, A shadow in the fall And a seed in the winter. Oh, I am not: because you still are. You have made me nameless; This 'I' is but A ripple in you ear, A whisper in a cradle, A tower on the earth And a thorn in my soul. Oh, but I am not: because you still are. You have made me boundless; These thoughts are but The promise of a fool, A peer to the beyond, A mist on the horizon And a night of my own making. Oh, but I am not: because you still are. Your name is my freedom, Your name is my dungeon. The lock and the key are one; To know himself, he whom your hand has made Must die by his own; For him to meet you, You must not be there. To know your grace, she whom your heart embraces Can be no other than you; In this instant, your name is not, My name is not. That which is, is both and none. That which is, Ah, this! ekoh © 2015 The Invitation
Come about me and find - dear seekers, The mirage of your quest; Come closer now, and let's shatter The clay pots of your dreams; Come nearer yet, now hear the echo Of your true voice; Come to me and see me not; Turn within and disappear. ekoh © 2014 Fireflies
The Departing Mistress
On the silvery side Of the looking glass, Where minds collide In a dulling mass, A was a child, color-blind To the tongue of mankind; I read without seeing And spoke without saying, I listened without hearing And meant without knowing; Of the words I grew aware While still tangled in their snare, Then I realized that one's age Is not the iron of one's cage; My first mistress was the word; This seasoned lover knows but spring, And lends herself to child and king, To those who shout, to those who sing, To the hermit and to the herd. As I learned to undress her, Hear through her whisper, Untie her lace, I saw man's mind is just a beggar For her kind elusive face. Word was my mistress, But I longed for deeper love. Word was my mirror, But I longed for truth above; Beneath her voice there is a silence, Beneath her skin there is a light; But with her figure and with her song, She diverts man from his own shadow; Beyond her voice there is a silence, Beyond her skin there is a light She tries to hide, for which I long, And in which soil I wish to sow; In spite of her there is a silence, The cool of which I yearn to sense; In spite of her there is a light, The fire of which restores true sight; So milady, enshrined by my own kind, So my lover, figment of our mind, With this, now, I thee shed; Thus I see the other side, Thus I know that which you hide; The shadow of man veiled by his pride. This ghost can be seen only When one ceases to cast The shadow of their own mind; When one is a light Onto oneself, A Sun within; As one is whole And one again. ekoh © 2007 Sticks and Stones
Sticks and stones may break my bones But I don’t need them where I’m bound; Where in fact there are no thrones, No ermine coats, no pride, no crown. Your sticks and stones may crack my ribs But you will find that cage is bare, For has flown out of its crib A heart that freed itself from snare. Sticks and stones might crush my skull Though you will find no soul to hold, I am not here, I am not there, ‘I’ is not even… Anywhere! We are not even, you and I; You spread your fear with pain and glare, Your past, your thoughts, smothered in mold, Your tongue, once honed, is now too dull, And yet you tried, and tried again To sway my heart, to curb my mind; You swore your light would lead all men And yet your pyres have kept them blind. Hunter, my dear friend, I was gone before you broke in; Make yourself at home. ekoh © 2015 |
From Here to There
Oh, so many forks on the road, Many a crossroad on the way Have added to your load, Have lead you to pray. Taught to walk, taught to run, Your eyes set on a distant sun; You've learned to yearn, You've grown to earn, You've learned to run from Here to There. Oh, how the crossroads on the way, Split your horizon manyfold, And for each Near, the price you pay, Are many Far, and more untold. Taught to want, taught to reach, Your self is caught in all and each; See how you burn, And you may yearn, To learn to leap from There to Here. ekoh © 2015 The Guest
The Heart
A Shadow of a Word
For each word uttered Under the Sun of truth, There is a shadow that takes root In the soil of suchness; Thus the myriad ideas of mankind Erect forests of darkness, A choir of discordant voices, A maze of chimeras. To the seeker of the pathless path, it is in the space between the words That the light is unobscured, In the unpronounced breadth, The soundless song of the heart, The shimmering echo of oneness. ekoh © 2015 All There Isn’t
You may enter the heart of ten thousand flowers, Various in scent, color and face, Down to their roots, And find them feeding on the same soil; Melt into this earth, And you know the seed; Enter the seed, And you are all there is; Let the seed turn to dust, And you are all there isn’t. ekoh © 2014 The Love of Poets
One exalts the distant love, The love which frays Like strings of silk Between the fingers Of a taken heart. One enshrines the love made king, The love that reigns Where it lives not And leaves exhausted A heart that bleeds. One feeds the love one has for self, The I in mirrors, the I in dreams, Which soon will fade In the warm embrace Of arms of flesh. Ah! this love, we erect as law, Is but lust in the guise of might, Trembling in fright To be nothing But a memory. ekoh © 2007 To Be the Light
Walk into the sunset, But be fully aware of each flower along the way; For each flower is a sun on its own, Every rock a moon, Every insect, a heart beat the of universe, And every raindrop, a traveller between the heavens and the earth. Walk into the sunset, With the knowledge you cannot reach it, Yet allowing it to reach within you; For it is mind that sets the distance And your loving that dissolves it. Walk into the sunset, With the thought that if you miss it, An other sunrise will invite an other sunset, Yet feel in your heart that this very one, is the last one ever; For it is the mind that creates hopes and tomorrows, But it is your heart that can beat only now. Walk into the sunset, without using your legs, With the knowledge you cannot move, But allowing your inner light, And that of the sun, To reunite and move together. Walk into the sunset, With the knowledge that it is such An elusively beautiful sighting, But feeling in your heart that it is, The eternal mirroring of your soul. Walk into the sunset, With the knowledge that this is all but poetry, But knowing in your heart, That this is the only truth. Walk into the sunset, With the knowledge that there are a million steps to be taken, But knowing in your heart, That the first step is the last; For it is the mind that runs and runs and runs, And it is the heart that knows the seed and the fruit are one. Walk into the sunset, With the knowledge that there are a million paths to choose from, But knowing in your heart, That there is only one path and no choice; For the mind strives to conquer new horizons, But the allowing heart falls deep into itself. Walk into the sunset, With the knowledge that you are safe from its fire, But feeling in your heart that you are fatally consumed by it; For it is the mind that will do anything to think itself alive, And it is the heart that will do nothing and welcome the embrace of death. In the sunset, Sit still, You are it, You are, … are, … ekoh © 2015 |