Poem: Connecting to the Higher Vibe
Look inward, into the light at your center, the light that came from Saturn
passing through our galaxy
on and around and maybe inside
the same sacred molecules breathed by
Gandhi. And Jimi.
Everyone. All breathing the same breath, born of the same ecstatic release.
They tell you where to gaze
and why to eat
and what to care
and who to how the when. But lonely is the day, my friend,
that comes not to a proper end;
trickling, instead, to the edges, like a stain, a creeper. Wine trapped in paper.
A celebrant. If you will
just follow me, let me lead you to the place or places you’re not sure enough to know.
So, repeat after she, delete past her knee, cancel the porkpies and make some fresh ghee.
You can, you know. It has been permitted and authorized by all the very best
committees that permit such things.
What’s not yet allowed won’t not nor isn’t meant to doesn’t.
That is the lesson.
And, also, to pick your revolutions carefully.
We’re watching you from above.