The ancient river hummed within

arousing every chakra

making me one with all rivers

The rivers of the earth

The rivers inside trees

The rivers of the air

The rivers of the heart

One compelling flow

One aligning force

One quickening in the core

One, as all water is one

I looked up

Everything my eyes could see

was charged with rush of river

Silent coursing

Exaltation of life.

The structure melts, and every atom, freed,

can dance forth in the swirl of ocean currents

release the particles and join the wave

each impulse starts a chain, and spurs it

far across the water, till at last absorbed;

we see the ocean quiet and inscrutable

though underneath, the currents curl and soar

and waves, concealed, continue on immutable

no information lost, though folded in

to every other impulse, every movement;

the sea so capably accommodates it

and holds all being lovingly contained.

That’s how we move as one, and how we know

each stream of life encompassed in the flow.

This is the hundredth post on my blog.  Not the hundredth poem, as I’ve sometimes posted two at once.  I decided to start by quoting the hundredth psalm from the Bible:

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. 

Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing. 

Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; 

we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. 

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: 

be thankful unto him, and bless his name. 

For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; 

and his truth endureth to all generations. 

Recently I have found great joy from the feeling that, rather than being comprised of a material body, my being is an impulse that moves along in waves of oneness with the harmony of the universe.  The more I look at the world, the more this seems to me to be so for everything I observe.  That is the subject of the following sonnet:

The world is framed in elemental waves

the vibrant patterns every movement follows

the undulations rolling through the forms

of squirrels, snakes, whole flocks of birds, one swallow;

The gracious give of tree limbs in the wind

the water’s lullaby against the shore

the ebb and flow of cricket song, the hum of bees

reverberating ring of crystals deep in caves.

We find these very waves define our arcs:

the impulse as we launch into our stride

is carried, wave on wave, as we continue –

harmonic pattern on which we then ride . . . 

How could we frame ourselves particulate

feeling these waves that all our moves articulate?