Quietude,
Moments of reflection
Whereby whirlings implode
And the ego goads.
Yet possibilities rekindle the heart.

Is this the start?
Where ideologies are torn,
Fruitions are born,
Though many still scorn.
No turning back, the seed is sown.

The road may be overgrown,
But the heart is true,
To see us through
The lies we're fed
That leaves us spiritually dead.

Spirituality lies in the head,
Many believe.
How souls will grieve
When hearts finally reveal
They are `lies' from a deceivers bed.

Many are led,
Into the land of the dead
By what is said and written.
The mind and soul are often prone
To becoming easily smitten.

It seems we no longer listen
To that inner light.
Our search is external instead,
Guided by voices in the head,
Or channelling in the night.

Yet we can still escape the illusion's might
And Shadow can always become bright
By connecting with the inner light,
That animates ALL living things.
Oh, the freedom this realisation brings!


Steve Gamble December 2005