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.