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"Unabashedly we do yearn, for the red star of her lips or for the white rose of her sweet tongue. Because our gnosis is a gnosis of the breath, and of the breath alone. The rhythms of her light and the subtle ways of her turning, are lost on all but the seeker and the one who searches through the patterns and the lattice, of the silver night skies. Gold is her royal color in the dawn, and a rich purple is no less her peerless vibrancy at the waning of day. She is really the mistress of light, and the invisible elusive seamstress of nature and of the natural world, in which we do play and in whom we do live, move and have our being. Hers is the fortitude of a finally founded belief. She draws us into mystery and memory and longing and, nearer and nearer, into true understanding and the embrace of a rich and living wisdom."
Autumn in the Mountains speaks of the pageantry of the seasons in conjunction with the splendors of the Spirit. Is it any wonder why our hearts are each swept away by this most spine tingling of seasons? The temperatures cool and the air becomes clear. The winds are crisp and the coolness is bracing in the most benign and delightful way. The stars are alight and the leaves fill the air everywhere with their downward drifting patterns that somehow seem to retain a type of silent music that is all their own. In any case, these poems represent the ripe fruit of years of reflection and writing, at once wrought and woven together.
Silver Dragon is a short collection of lyrical and contemplative prose poems to awaken the heart of the reader. Filled with wonder, grace and magic, these timeless reflections can be revisited time and time again, and as such will remain with you in memory for many days to come.
The cauldron of history. The tempests, and the idylls, of the heart. The binding together of hope and meaning. The sacred fulfillment of man and the promise of his home in the world; fire that glows in the hearth. Sovereign operations of grace; and the steep ascent of the mountaineering will...What could it mean to remove this mountain, slash that sea? What simple elocution of the flourishing mustard seed? See fire on the larch; a breathing of wings into the vast sky; and a plenary reaching-out, to grasp the minutes, as they go soaring wistfully by...The dominion of God, stepping through time, in the weal of cyclical dreams, the prophetic starlight playing, forever gracefully, in the tops of the trees... As wine tipped from a cup, once brimming over, now drunken to the lees. We read meaning in the fall of the stars, and in the rites of spring.'Tis all the invisible subtlety, of Spirit, star-sparkling in the rain of the world. The consciousness that God is. Easefully in the faculty of the breath. Espied in the columns of dust, and realized in the dreamt tenderness of love, sung within the several diamonded psalms of infinity, eternity, as in a reign of Glory in the Highest.
"Picture to yourself, the element of sapphire, vision it in your mind's eye, withal its deep-intense, shade of blue. Even as something unearthly except, for that it is, just that, of the Earth. Like the blue-fluid course of the river, which runs on unending into, the only epiphany that is: namely, that of the Self. Yet there is this deep-wide intensification of form. And through all, one labors in the spirit. So that even one's work which comes to be, in time, is only this peaceful, sapphirine freedom, that is merely, the unfurling of wings, euphoric, intense and vivid. Withal the deep-blue, gold-argent immortality of the soul. And finally, this sapphirine pearlescent, belief in each other. Itself the only true begetter, of a deep-intense, blue-lighted love."
"e;As a psalm written to the heart of the Spirit, in which the silver veins of dreams, return to dwell in the turning seasons of the year, and to reveal again that what matters the most, in our search for the soul, are not only the invisible patterns of grace and the promises they portend, but at last the unforgettable ways, in which they mature into what is real, drench with their light the weft of our world, and thus lend their life to the one heart that breathes inside us all."e;Poetry for contemplation, Star Autumn Twilight will sneak up on the consciousness of the reader only to evoke, in the end, an authentic sense of ineffable peace, holy wonder and sublime hope.
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