On Your prayer white Altar
I offer my throbbing ruby heart
kneeling amidst the lotus flower snows
Ascetic Himalayan mountain cliffs
Ancient Rishis
gaze sagaciously,
chanting Hari Om
we breathe in the rarified incense
of Prema
climbing altitudes
dizzying heights
quartz crystal stars,
sphatik rosaries
at our feet
only Hari exists
and this love
that illumines
the face of creation
Hari Om Dearest God
across the dazzling abyss
in Your arms we dance
numberless candles
inflorescent, incandescent
beyond
the Northern lights
Even I know that Hari Om is a meditation about cosmic energy. It is couched in a history and tradition that predates all things in the United States. Your poem expresses it beautifully and with majesty.
While greatly pleased, I never achieved ecstasy from high mountain tops or "lotus flower snows… quartz crystal stars… candles or incense. Chanting, least of all. The wonders of nature are ours to behold, explore, and enjoy. To give them "godly" powers is an insult to what we've learned about why they are here and what they are.
However, I have no problem with you believing such things exist, as long as you are doing no harm to nature by your practices. I'm trying not to in a difficult world where almost everything we do steps on nature's beauty and never restores it.
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
If you tend to believe romantic, passionate, masculine poetry is a thing of past eras, read "She Intrigues Me," and be swept away in the beautiful craft of a contemporary poet of love.
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However, I have no problem with you believing such things exist, as long as you are doing no harm to nature by your practices. I'm trying not to in a difficult world where almost everything we do steps on nature's beauty and never restores it.
Ron