Gifted River

There's the way the river bends and twists at its ends.

It slows to suit the shore,

scattered rocks,

gypsy driftwood.

Soft at its edge,

the river lends itself to guests--

depends upon the life within, finding sustenance,

to itself, be sustained.

Like the wayward traveler,

standing still,

basking in the muffled warmth of a cloud-covered sun,

gifted the river by Mother Nature

to sustain his spirit.

The gift of the river,

for the gifted

and the giver.

-Jayme

Reconditioning

To grin

and bear the burden of perception's making,

is to put our lives at stake.

It's not the "virtuous" gesture of braving pain

for life's sake

that makes sense of any breakdown

or loss of faith.

It's the power, in which, we choose to stand.

It's the choice we make in the quiet of morning

when all is still--

potential.

The choice is to be 
what we've only dared to see ourselves as,

in spite of past conditioning.

Fight or flight--

no such thing.

Self-preservation,

a contradiction in terms.

The Self need not be preserved.

The choice is to be It--

or not.

-Jayme

Light of Truth

Stark truth when set against a still night sky.

Luminous specks of truth.

Opposite ends of earth.

Here, rooftops tickled by the light of a distant moon,

reflecting sunlight.

There, flickering ripples huddled all together in still water.

Identical reflections.

To unearth truth,

sun's light falls down upon all.

None, more than the other.

Love's light falls upon all.

Stark discovery in the pitch black of night...

Infinite Light.

-Jayme

Patience is faith.


Time's too wild a beast to tame.
Given names and shoved into spaces,
aware of none.
Wide open as the sky,
inviting us to be the same.


Days turn over, one by one.
The sun, in it's stillness, waits,
the earth, in it's time obliges.


Breathe in.
Be present.
Wait.


Patience is faith.


-Jayme

Notion

Whether by chance or fate,

the waiting wind grasps a notion--

passes it on. 

Barely recognized amongst the hustle

and bustle of the day,

often, the one to whom its bequeathed sees

merely a disposable whim.

Don't be mistaken.

A gentle spark,

though easily extinguished,

houses within

the light of the sun.

Take not for granted, the notion.

Rather, grant it the time it so deserves.

Allow it to catch--

become a smouldering fire,

to capture each and every gaze.

Let it find its rightful place...

Manifest. Mesmerizing. Praised.

That simple notion's

the seed of change.

-Jayme

For Eileen

Spirit in me
shines brightly.

A Spark
burst forth
at the dawn of All,
with a call to action.

A Spark,

quick to ignite
this fiery Light--
white hot and full of Life.

This soul

that is
Spirit
in me,
shines brightly.

I dance upon shimmering stars
nightly--
Far out in the vastness of the
Whole.

I’m there,
while here.

In this form,
safe and sound,
surrounded completely,
Shrouded in the

glowing
radiant knowing

of the Truth of Creation. 

To be there,

while here, still,

is to know…

No thing apart.
Just the One,
through which, possibility knows no bounds...                                                              no bounds.

Only the Truth

that is All
That All Is.

There,

in the All,

of the All,
the Miraculous.

SPIRIT in Me
Shines Brightly . 

-Jayme

Give and Take

We go searching for diamonds on the water.

Captured light.

Eyes, wide at the sight.

Lowered hands,
keen to grasp just a few,
show nothing but
the lacquer finish
of moving water.

Diamonds to feel,
not touch.

Diamonds on the water,
glisten when
kissed
by wind.

There to be
taken in.

Transient.

Gone with the day.

-Jayme

Allowances

Allow yourself to heal--

steal back that small part 
of you
that once
was big.

That part
thrown into 
waiting wind
while holding sins as though they were true.

There's no truth
but You--
the all of the All.
There's never been,

Illusory is the smallness.

Know your grace.
Hold it close.
Release the rest.
Let go.

The gifts this life reveals
surpass the grandest vision
one can hold.

Put out your hands.
Allow yourself to heal.

-Jayme

Invitation

Find a path
and run.

Limbs shifting,
swiftly kicked back
mud,
thrust to past--
the last of it to be seen.
 
At last,
breathe,
be free.

Run like the mighty wind,
with a vigor
as yet, unknown.

That path
laid out
smooth to the touch,
and clean,
need not be seen
to be.

When the urge comes...
Run.


-Jayme

Granted

Place all trust in sunrise.

Eyes have seen,

countless times,

a pitch black sky

fill with light.

Each time,

taken for granted

not the light,

but trust.

For, nothing says sun’s light returns

again and again

for sure.

The future holds no proof…

only the truth of Perfection,

the Law in which

All is grounded.

A wish is granted,

to Be.

The only way to see

for sure

is sunlight.

-Jayme

Saving's Grace

A picket fence

Open to a green pasture.

We run—

chins raised to the sun,

arms wide and back.

Then, fall to our knees and breathe.

The day is rose-petal soft

and blurred.

You look to me to say a few careful words.

As I roll, skin tickled arm to arm by whisps of grass, nearly dry,

the very back of my head holds still,

nestled in a slight dip in the earth.

I look up at your silhouette, overtaken by the avalanche of light

tumbling from above.

I hear. I know. 

Then close my eyes and drift away.

Rainy days are saved for careful words.

Silence is perfection.

-Jayme

The Present

A trip.

About an hour.

Patchwork green fields

rising and dipping into the horizon.

We take it in.

Dream for a moment

Of a life

Free.

Quiet mornings wrapped in farmland.

Thick mist.

Cornfields kissed by drops of dew.

And you—

Perhaps more than I

Want to run off

To such a place.

Your mind’s eye holds visions

Of perfection.

Still solitude.

No hurry.

Little do you know—

Nor I…

Displeasure is in the mind of the beholder.

Not in lines we choose to ride.

Back and forth.

Work and school.

Home again.

Day in.

Out.

Just as—

What we think we want

Is not just

In open air.

Drifting for miles

Without obstruction

Over patchwork fields.

Rather—

In each mindful breath.

In just this
Moment.

Regardless of what or where,

The present is the gift we give

To ourselves.

-Jayme

TWO

A son so bright,
fire's light seems frail--
shrinks back,
far from sight.

And, a daughter,
grounded as an oak.
Time froze
when first, it saw her.

Two.

I say the word...
let it permeate my skin,
seep deep,
deep within,
'till my bones,
gripped by its meaning,
firm up.
Gain that much more strength--
laugh off the faintest notion
they could break.

There is no break
from two.

No thought,
or action--
lure
or inclination,
for which, I would forsake
the growing strength
at home in this temple...
all for two.

For now.

Months on,
maybe more.

This strength,
they informed me of
when, twice, they came
through,
hours of rhythmic pain.

And I stayed
clear--
of sound mind,
amazed.

Two, for whom there is no "too much".

Two,
for whom,
by whom,
I stand changed.

-Jayme

Come to Light

Inches of skin, shed.

Left in dust.

What remains,

onward, flows--

Cleansed and new.

Smooth.

To go into Light,

Holy brightness--

to bask in the soothing warmth of Life,

no need for thick skin.

Rather, transparent and thin 

so that all from within can show through.

The power of clarity,

duality,

transparency...

embrace it all.

Place it all on display

for those who choose, to take.

Or, if so desire, walk away.

-Jayme

And...Scene

Two questions I can't quite shake--

They alternate:

Have I made a big mistake,

Or, am I the one who's mistaken?

What I'd taken was rightfully mine.

At least according to scenes I'd seen play out,

at dinner time,

on car rides,

when the phone line was tied up far too late in the night.

They played like card games in a crowded casino.

Like a broken record, 

as they'd say I sounded

when I spoke

my mind.

So I learned to stay quiet.

To stay.

Then I found my own scenes to play

and play.

The back and forth,

mind-numbing pain

and sweet love.

Softness in the refrain.

Back again for more of the same.

I'd say it was wrong,

demand change,

desperately claim strength.

But those scenes I'd seen play out

were mine.

They were mine.

Again and again,

I stepped up,

handed in my line-up for the game.

Choices I made...

Did I make a mistake?

Or, am I the one who's mistaken?

-Jayme

Out to See

The sailor knows not why the wind blows,
nor when.

He simply tends to that which
requires his attention.

He mentions not the beastly waves,
nor days he feared
he lost his way.

A quiet soul out in the
vast ocean--
not a sight to behold
but the ship his task is to control.
Immeasurable crests of blue.
Specks of gold.

Alone,
amidst the cunning sea,
he lives a dream.

For all the angry storms,
pitch-black nights he has seen...
and survived,
he trusts the sea that has gifted him sight.

What he knows?

He's free.

-Jayme

This Life

What is this Life?

For what, is it meant?

Bent at will, is it?

Shifted on a whim?

Tossed about by random acts of circumstance?

To take a chance,

the hope of luck's gentle greeting?

Is this Life devoid of meaning,

to cease in darkness...

far too fleeting?

Say no--

no to it all.

Life is the call of the Infinite

for Joy.

Life's roots run so deep,

a base, they never reach

no matter how far off they go.

Life, in all its Glory

is just that--

a fairytale story told to the heavens.

So no,

fear not--

beg not for mercy.

Be the writer of your own story.

Bask in its glorious flow.

Be what you know you are.

Be Life. 

-Jayme