The Temple of Perfection
A life of “perfect” paths, no freedom for mistakes.
No missteps ever taken means the path’s not mine to make.
This temple rose before me, rose within me, rose again.
Obsessed with the future, how can now begin?
Letting go of expectations, cast adrift I’m somehow free.
Must accept my imperfections, my humanity.
Stopped fighting against nature, against the divine.
I kept losing battles that were only in my mind.
So goodbye to perfection, to a life I cannot lead.
Goodbye to the idea that I cannot be me.
This poison is infectious, and I’m not immune,
This Temple may return, the Temple of Doom.
Transition for me is just a state of mind.
A constant evolution, like a flowing rhyme.
Don’t know where I’d be without the ebb and flow.
High on life, but then I’m feeling low.
My temples rose before me, contained me, detained me.
My temples rise within me, define me, confine me.
So I mourn their destruction while I celebrate.
Though letting go is painful it can liberate.
So now I’m here declaring that I’m letting go.
Not clinging to the thought of being in control.
The Temple of Control
Control is an illusion, a delusion, mass confusion.
Mystery is the truth, and what a great one, the solution.
God is just the word so we remember this fact.
The universe is bigger than our minds can grasp.
I can’t control the path before me, bring back Temples now
destroyed.
A relief and yet I’m mourning, when it should be enjoyed.
I’m mourning their destruction like a life I never lived.
Perfection, control, are these truly to be
missed?
Losing pride I found my spirit, losing sight, my third eye
glows.
Temples destroyed by higher powers, this life is stranger
than I know.
Conflicting contradictions, letting go of ancient rancor.
Becoming more human, I lost my wheel and found my anchor.
Will we ever have our Temples, can we have them and be free?
The sacred’s in the spaces, in the changes, in me.
These days I tend to create rituals more often than poems about whatever is my current challenge. A couple of nights ago I had a ritual process unfold where I was with all my Parts that live in my chest region, which tend to be my most core Parts - ancestral, angelic, and personal. These Parts each has great wisdom to share, important knowings that guide my life. And, they each have burdens and shadows.
ReplyDeleteIn this ritual process, I was illuminating the thread of integrity that runs through the center of each Part, the red ribbon of Truth that can often be hidden or disfigured by those burdens and shadows. Becoming myself, integrated and clear, is always a process of things falling away from that red ribbon of integrity, running through each Part as they fulfill their Divine callings.
I am a polymath and always drawn to learning new modalities, which also means moving on from older forms. So poetry is one that has mostly fallen by the wayside these days. It is such a precious and special form of communication. So today I appreciate how I used to make sense of complexity, paradox, and hard things, in verse, while uplifting my current modality of ritual.