What the hell was I thinking
coming here
to a Hell, I keep asking myself
what on Earth
I’m doing here and come up
with the same
and different answers– Heaven
The Serpent
devours itself and then looks
for more to eat
because it is always expanding
contracting
Thirsty hungry restless alive…
Rayn Roberts
9/25/17
Some One Asked
What I Meant
When I Said
The Oneness
of Being
I was shocked they didn’t know
It’s not the known that holds the secrets to knowing more.
There is more than what we see and know here and now.
Search the far reaches of the future
Dark womb of tomorrow
Understand the possible
Flowers in impossible gardens:
If we can link
Countless computers
One massive mind giving dreams
Knowledge, ideas
Making the many one,
How possible is One Mind
One Net of Energy, Web of Spirit?
It’s not what you see or know that can hurt or help you.
Be still as you move, keep an eye open for the invisible.
“The Web” first appeared in the book “Of One and Many Worlds” by Rayn Roberts @ Poetic Matrix Press
The waters they foul will clear, the chemicals
They dump will wash away, gravity will pull
The junk down from the sky, the acid rain
Will sweeten again– There may not be men
Or women to love her, Mother will remain.
I saw the waves of the sea and was seafoam
The sweep of the pine and was green, saw
Sunrise and was sun-fire, I stood on the edge
Saw the end and this is not it — Managers,
Bosses, generals under god, will have you feel
The end is near, Gaia is a stuck pig to roast
Make us believe the Creator gave them power,
Their god of love, prince of peace, their god
Of faith, hope and buckets of blood, hateful
Wrathful father, will crush the living earth
To win a bid for dominance? Think again:
In a thousand years, Chernobyl will be paradise.
Out of breath but not energy, I tire on the upward path
Stop to see where I am. The summit’s not far, but I need water.
It is the taste of spring, taste of April I take, the icy-sweet clean
Can-anything-be-so-pure-snowmelt rushing right out of the earth.
This is how I want to be, clean and clear, no phone TV house or car
No worn-out concept, dead-end dogma, news of the dead or war–
Merton had his seven story mountain, but was a monk. I aspire
Only to know myself & poetry. That too is a mountain worth a climb.
To long for, wander out and look for the miracle in the mundane
The unexpected blessing in contradictions, the calm fox napping
A hare hopping by unharmed, the globe spinning from light to dark
In a field of floating stars, sparks rising from a camp-fire
The echo of a waterfall
That is what I want, not to get away
But get closer to what I need most and love, a place
Where the many faces of the mountain are one, where I sit
Allow the toil and grief of life to flow out of my mind, out of my body
Drain into the earth like water, a leave me for good.
“Climbing Mountains” first appeared in Illuminations: Expressions of the Personal Spiritual Experience by Mark L. Tompkins (Editor), Jennifer McMahon (Editor)
Cover photo for the poem by Rayn Roberts: View of Mts. near Hoh Rain Forest Washington
Water is always moving in mountains and men
They rise in time and fall, but water never ends.
August sun on a dry trail, the chilled voice
Of snow-melt in a rocky ravine sweetly calls
To the cup of my hand…
I dip and drink, I am a living stream.
Photos & Poem by Rayn Roberts 2014
Questionnaire
How much poison are you willing
to eat for the success of the free
market and global trade? Please
name your preferred poisons.
For the sake of goodness, how much
evil are you willing to do?
Fill in the following blanks
with the names of your favorite
evils and acts of hatred.
What sacrifices are you prepared
to make for culture and civilization?
Please list the monuments, shrines,
and works of art you would
most willingly destroy.
In the name of patriotism and
the flag, how much of our beloved
land are you willing to desecrate?
List in the following spaces
the mountains, rivers, towns, farms
you could most readily do without.
State briefly the ideas, ideals, or hopes,
the energy sources, the kinds of security;
for which you would kill a child.
Name, please, the children whom
you would be willing to kill.
~ Wendell Berry
Wendell E. Berry (born August 5, 1934) is an American novelist, poet, environmental activist, cultural critic, and farmer. A prolific author, he has written many novels, short stories, poems, and essays. He is an elected member of the Fellowship of Southern Writers, a recipient of The National Humanities Medal, and the Jefferson Lecturer for 2012. He is also a 2013 Fellow of The American Academy of Arts and Sciences. Berry was named the recipient of the 2013 Richard C. Holbrooke Distinguished Achievement Award. On January 28, 2015, he became the first living writer to be inducted into the Kentucky Writers Hall of Fame.
