When I was a young songwriter my work was predominantly about lonliness, gothy I guess, and when I fell in love, mostly love songs, then when we broke up, I never wrote another song again. I don't know if song writing served its purpose or it was just ripped out of me, but haven't had inspiration to compose, and I don't miss it at all.

@ Gem ~ perhaps something died within and with it the inspiration to write? In any case, looking at it dispassionately, inspirations come from the universe, as of heart’s desire or longing. What no longer serves us is dropped. It is good you don’t miss the ‘skill’ because in any case, we are not the author of verses we pen.

Scent of bliss
 

Slipping into the bardo whilst awake,
attention softened, simply looking on,
free from thought clutter, thus nothing at stake,
fragrance of sandalwood, the mist we don,
soothing, humming magnetism ushers dawn.
As rainbow’s hues are refracted in form,
soul remains poised, centred in love’s bliss storm.

the joy continuum
 

having aged, we’re no longer in our prime
yet vibrance of our heart remains intact
tweets of love continuing to transact
each moment deemed as the optimal time

heart sings a song and we dance to its chime
lost in ambedo trance, God’s grace attract
and as bliss beats with our form make contact,
resting in stillness mind conjures a rhyme

one day this dream life will come to an end
but since we dwell in heart and not in mind
presence is upbeat, suffused with cool heat
borne by bliss, our chosen way to ascend
pure love drenched soul following the scent blind
delights as refrains of rapture repeat

We walk alone
 

Lonely is the path we’ve embarked upon,
imbibing breath by breath, boons of God’s grace,
enabled even as we stretch and yawn,
for such is tenderness of love’s embrace.

Although we wish to share, no soul can pair,
for this requires melding head with the heart,
deepening silence to become aware,
of how bliss ignition within does start.

To live in the moment, means letting go,
by recognising we’re not body-mind,
being but a boat we’ve chosen to row,
to grow by becoming loving and kind.

No wonder then we walk this path alone,
in timeless time coming into our own.

a rose blossoms
 

With bliss magnetism having exhumed ego,
we’re no longer impacted by fickle fate,
living internally in staid stillness slow,
distanced from patterns of old that used to bait,
for knowing life is but a dream, we’ve let go,
trusting God to carry us to heaven’s gate.
Having been, seen and so known our Self as light,
we embody this wisdom by day and night.

Our dilemma
 

We’ve donned this form to feel love warm,
caged in space and hemmed in by time,
memory of heaven wiped clean,
so we feel helpless in life’s storm,
deadened to pulse of bliss beat’s chime,
light of soul remaining unseen.

To have the cake and eat it too
requires us to remain awake,
recognising life is a dream
but how then will rapture renew,
if awareness applies the brake,
on flow of love’s dancing moonbeam?

This is the quiz we need to ace,
feasible only with God’s grace.

The practice
 

Though as witness consciousness sans desire,
we dwell in this form, so we are hemmed in,
tendencies of the past stifling soul’s fire,
birthing deep delusion, to our chagrin.
With silence alone offering reprieve,
poised therein we ask ego to beg leave,
that thus in God’s presence we may awake,
since dear hearts, our soul’s freedom is at stake.

an unheard melody
 

the orphaned child gazed at the moon
consoled not by love from afar
he sat alone, holding a spoon
stark solitude was his soul’s scar

the lamp in the sky has its moods
the orphaned child gazed the moon
when it is pitch dark, his heart broods
callous too seems, the sun at noon

“if God’s real, grant me love’s boon
that tender touch of mother’s kiss”
the orphaned child gazed the moon
“get me out of this dark abyss”

choosing to take all life along
with God he began to commune
his spirit then sang a love song
the orphaned child gazed at the moon

happy to play our part