Celtic Gardens Poetry, Songs

A Finer Reality

Beyond the brink of
third dimensional matrices
quantum grids pulse patiently
Colossal cosmic frameworks
conduits for consciousness
expansion and discovery

Vibrationally pure scaffolding
of light and energy
to free our restricted state of reckoning,
reunion with grand beings,
majestic worlds
of creative ecstasy, wholeness
and unimaginable joy

The past has been lived
for eons
patterns repeating
in grooves of fake safety
pain, pleasure, loss, agony, fear
lifetimes of predictable tales
expectations and experiences

A new Way awaits

Old paradigms dissolve.
A finer reality is dreamt into being
inspiring the expanded Divine-Self
Awakened hearts and minds imagine,
focus and create it so

Hearts and minds open
Inventive imagination in the moment
with vision for the future
Brave hearts venture forward
curious as little children,
courageous as unlimited adults
moving graciously into worlds unknown

Opportunities flourish for unique discoveries
Every woman, every man, every child
universal and terrestrial explorers
in this contemporary time-frame
Releasing the focus on the material
mastering the time-weary illusion
vibrationally evolving into The Real

Expanding into multidimensionality
Finally wholly Human
Reunited with Soul
Complete

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Celebrating our Anam Cara
Cedar and I pondered the quantum field
And its unlimited future potentials

The winter garden was languidly dreaming
Naked to the wind and unadorned
She nurtured her vision of spring
Colouring her dream blossoms in translucent red
And pink and white and blue

We stared into the fire
Contemplating the depths of the flames
The moving moments that are winter
And the mystery of beingness

With the winter winds
We surrendered our past
And shaped our dreams
Into holographic thought forms of light
Light moving with the shiny frequencies of love

Trees having slowly sculpted their green leaves
Paused- as if waiting for a point of ripeness
To release their blossom dream to the world
In breathtaking beauty

Spring seen by us and felt by us
Splashed her red and pink and white
And blue blossoms like wild musical notes
Throughout the garden

We walked in this sacred cacophony of colour
As the daffodils with their butterfly wings
And sunbeam faces trumpeted their spring song
Joyously in a vibrant crescendo of yellows

The weaving wind softly whistled a
Serene spring song – a tender melody
Of the pink and white rhododendrons playfully
As they slowly opened to the warmth of the sun

The purple grape hyacinths
tiptoeing through the grasses
Shared their nectar with the bees
Conducting the choir of colours
surrounding them with a passion

We trimmed and shaped our hair
We wandered the lengthening days
Lingering within the utopia of intoxicating fragrances
Ecstatically moved by the vibrant symphony of colours

Lured to thoughts of Oneness
Humming circles of light and new and dynamic dimensions

Sitting under the majestic willow
We watched the magpies and parrots playing on branches
Raining white blossoms like tiny confetti snowballs to the ground

The camellias in contrast to this frivolity
Opened their blossoms stately – with elegance and grace

In this awakening landscape of life
On the brink of a Golden Age
Within the Paradise of infinite potentials
Free and gloriously dancing in the quantum field of love
With the spring song reverberating eternally
We sense the illusion

The dance of human being to spirit being
We imagine the garden and us
Both as dreamers in the mind of God
Unique filaments in the fibre of the Great Mystery

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there in the dance of the flames
in the fire
in the field
our eyes followed
the total eclipse of the full moon

we surrendered
all of our fears
we watched as the flames
eagerly burnt them
we watched
as the moon coloured herself in red
then darkened

in the darkness we emptied
with passion
all the limitations of our past
into the fire
the milky way ablaze with stars
acknowledged our sincerity

we paused breathless
as the light of the moon
slowly erased her own darkness
the passage of her slumber
now forgotten in her luminosity
effortlessly she dimmed
the blazing light of the stars

her new light now radiant - open
full of promise - full of power
her rhythmic dance
from light to dark - to light
complete

we became
children of the moon in her fullness
women of the night sky
wise - pure - innocent and playful
vulnerable and strong
fearless

in the field
the mystery of the eclipse
of the full moon
unveiled over five hours
time held in her hands
the web
of a new world

Anna Pye
www.celticgardens.com.au

O R B S
Other Realities Beyond Sight
I awaken to the realisation of
New dimensions
Higher frequency vibrations
Faster than the speed of light
Beyond limited vision
Blocked, locked and closed perception
Beyond Sight

O R B S
As Souls of Light, conscious beings
Contacting this inter-dimensional
Reality
within which I now harmonise -
My approach curious and jubilant
Childlike, in this welcoming dance
of innocence and connection
Present in this wondrous state of presence

H E A R T
My heart opens
Like a long forgotten sun
Radiant and aware
of having been asleep for so long
We participate in the sacred resonance
of interconnected life
Life beyond the prison of limited perception

L I F E
Here and now
Beyond the masks of time

O R B S
Arriving as inter-dimensional friends
and communities of beings
To spiral us towards the moving mystery
of our galactic place
in infinite space
To spark the remembrance of ourselves
as luminous Spheres of Light
That have always sung
In the silent spacious tunnels
and portals of connected light
and pulsating life
harmonies of coloured symphonies
of unity.

S P I R I T
Orbs as Spirit shining here now everywhere
Collectively
Consciously
Within the glorious spaces of the Now
Where the time folds are collapsing
Into
Cosmic vehicles of creation

O R B S are U S
Sleeping in the dream of God
Awakening and entering into
the conscious creation of Infinite Life

Imagine a woman
who believes it is right and good she is woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman
who believes she is good.
A woman who trusts and respects herself.
Who listens to her needs and desires and meets them with tenderness and grace.

Imagine a woman
who has acknowledged the past's influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman
who authors her own life.
A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.
Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and to her wisest voice.

Imagine a woman
who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs her own spirituality and allows it to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman
in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates her body and its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman
who honors the face of the Goddess in her changing face.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her precious life energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman
who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

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©April Crawford. Both poems are by Ish. The first is from April’s book Reflections of a Spiritual Astronaut.
The second is from April’s free weekly newsletter Inner Whispers, Vol.1 Issue 11. Please visit AprilCrawford.com.

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when i was a boy, very little
yes i was
i counted all the stars, from the middle
yes i did
the sky was my universe, me the master
yes i was
my craft was a chariot, only faster
yes it was
my goals were so simple, and so clear
yes they were
i could fly to the sun with no fear
yes i did
capturing the essence in my soul
yes i did
i explored the all of earth, and myself
yes i did
all of earth was an easy project
yes it was
my self an endless galaxy
yes it was

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Know, Oh Universe, That I Love You with All the Grace,
And with All the Power, of the Love of Messiah...
That my awareness is Eternally caressing all Forms of Reality,
Sharing this Bliss in the most Beautiful and Creative Manifestations...

Let my Heart be possessed by the Spirit of Truth!
Let my Existence be Dedicated to the enlightenment of All
Consciousness throughout the Universe! Let my Enthusiasm be a Light
Of Love and Truth for all to Feel! Oh Let my Touch
Be the Highest Manifestation for the Will Divine!

Let my every Action transform this Reality into Greater
And more Loving Perfections! Let my Body be
The Most Sacred Temple of Truth! The Omega Point is Here!
Clarity of Vision has been Redeemed throughout the Universe!

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Rain from Nowhere

His cattle didn't get a bid, they were fairly bloody poor,
What was he going to do? He couldn't feed them anymore,
The dams were all but dry, hay was thirteen bucks a bale,
Last month's talk of rain was just a fairytale,

His credit had run out, no chance to pay what's owed,
Bad thoughts ran through his head as he drove down Gully Road
"Geez, great grandad bought the place back in 1898,
"Now I'm such a useless bastard, I'll have to shut the gate.
"Can't support my wife and kids, not like dad and those before,
"Even Grandma kept it going while Pop fought in the war."
With depression now his master, he abandoned what was right,
There's no place in life for failures, he'd end it all tonight.

There were still some things to do, he'd have to shoot the cattle first,
Of all the jobs he'd ever done, that would be the worst.
He'd have a shower, watch the news, then they'd all sit down for tea
Read his kids a bedtime story, watch some more TV,
Kiss his wife goodnight, say he was off to shoot some roos
Then in a paddock far away he'd blow away the blues.
But he drove in the gate and stopped - as he always had
To check the roadside mailbox - and found a letter from his Dad.

Now his dad was not a writer, Mum did all the cards and mail
But he knew the style from the notebooks that he used at cattle sales,
He sensed the nature of its contents, felt moisture in his eyes,
Just the fact his dad had written was enough to make him cry.
"Son, I know it's bloody tough, it's a cruel and twisted game,
"This life upon the land when you're screaming out for rain,
"There's no candle in the darkness, not a single speck of light
"But don't let the demon get you, you have to do what's right,

"I don't know what's in your head but push the bad thoughts well away
"See, you'll always have your family at the back end of the day
"You have to talk to someone, and yes I know I rarely did
"But you have to think about Fiona and think about the kids.
"I'm worried about you son, you haven't rung for quite a while,
"I know the road you're on 'cause I've walked every mile.
"The date? December 7 back in 1983,
"Behind the shed I had the shotgun rested in the brigalow tree.

"See, I'd borrowed way too much to buy the Johnson place
"Then it didn't rain for years and we got bombed by interest rates,
You said 'Where are you Daddy? It's time to play our game'
"' I've got Squatter all set up, you might get General Rain.'
"It really was that close, you're the one that stopped me son,
"And you're the one that taught me there's no answer in a gun.
"Just remember people love you, good friends won't let you down.
"Look, you might have to swallow pride and get a job in town,
"Just 'til things come good, son, you've always got a choice
"And when you get this letter ring me, 'cause I'd love to hear your voice."

Well he cried and laughed and shook his head then put the truck in gear,
Shut his eyes and hugged his dad in a vision that was clear,
Dropped the cattle at the yards, put the truck away
Filled the troughs the best he could and fed his last ten bales of hay.
Then he strode towards the homestead, shoulders back and head held high,
He still knew the road was tough but there was purpose in his eye.
He called for his wife and children, who'd lived through all his pain,
Hugs said more than words - he'd come back to them again,
They talked of silver linings, how good times always follow bad,
Then he walked towards the phone, picked it up and rang his Dad.
And while the kids set up the Squatter, he hugged his wife again,
Then they heard the roll of thunder and they smelt the smell of rain.

Murray Hartin
February 21, 2007

Muzza (Murray Hartin) has been asked to pen something for the Salvation
Army that can bring awareness to the general public about Rural suicide. He
came up with this poem which I think is exceptional, brought a tear to my eye
anyhow.

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Imagine
Imagine there's no heaven,
It's easy if you try,
No hell below us,
Above us only sky,
Imagine all the people
living for today...

Imagine there's no countries,
It isnt hard to do,
Nothing to kill or die for,
No religion too,
Imagine all the people
living life in peace...

You may say Im a dreamer,
but Im not the only one,
I hope some day you'll join us,
And the world will live as one.

(Imagine all the people sharing all the world)

Imagine no possesions,
I wonder if you can,
No need for greed or hunger,
A brotherhood of man,
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say Im a dreamer,
but Im not the only one,
I hope some day you'll join us,
And the world will live as one.

- John Lennon

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I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing
I'd like to build the world a home
and furnish it with love
grow apple trees and honey bees
and snow white turtle doves

I'd like to teach the world to sing
in perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms
and keep it company

I'd like to see the world for once
all standing hand in hand
and hear them echo through the hills
for peace throuout the land

thats the song I hear
Let the world sing today
a song of peace
that echoes on
and never goes away

I'd like to teach the world to sing
in perfect harmony

I'd like to teach the world to sing
in perfect harmony

I'd like to build the world a home
and funish it with love
grow apple trees and honey bees
and snow white turtle doves

I'd like to teach the world to sing
in perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms
and keep it company

- Seekers

I dreamed I had an interview with God.

“So you would like to interview me?” God asked.

“If you have the time” I said.

God smiled. “My time is eternity.”
“What questions do you have in mind for me?”

“What surprises you most about humankind?”

God answered...
“That they get bored with childhood,
they rush to grow up, and then
long to be children again.”

“That they lose their health to make money...
and then lose their money to restore their health.”

“That by thinking anxiously about the future,
they forget the present,
such that they live in neither
the present nor the future.”

"That they live as if they will never die,
and die as though they had never lived.”

God’s hand took mine
and we were silent for a while.

And then I asked...
“As a parent, what are some of life’s lessons
you want your children to learn?”

“To learn they cannot make anyone
love them. All they can do
is let themselves be loved.”

“To learn that it is not good
to compare themselves to others.”

“To learn to forgive
by practicing forgiveness.”

“To learn that it only takes a few seconds
to open profound wounds in those they love,
and it can take many years to heal them.”

“To learn that a rich person
is not one who has the most,
but is one who needs the least.”

“To learn that there are people
who love them dearly,
but simply have not yet learned
how to express or show their feelings.”

“To learn that two people can
look at the same thing
and see it differently.”

“To learn that it is not enough that they
forgive one another, but they must also forgive themselves.”

"Thank you for your time," I said humbly.

"Is there anything else
you would like your children to know?"

God smiled and said,
“Just know that I am here... always.”

-author unknown
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Like a blooming night flower,
Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness
And giving
Upon our intimate assembly.

Greet Yourself
In your thousand other forms
As you mount the hidden tide and travel
Back home.

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Beauty

And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty."
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her
unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."
The tired and the weary say, "beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."
At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say,
"we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."
In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."
And in the summer heat the reapers say,
"We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes
and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden forever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
Khalil Gibran

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He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
W.B. Yeats (1865–1939)

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It has to be loved the way a laundress loves her linens,
the way she moves her hands caressing the fine muslins
knowing their warp and woof,
like a lover coaxing, or a mother praising.
It has to be loved as if it were embroidered
with flowers and birds and two joined hearts upon it.
It has to be stretched and stroked.
It has to be celebrated.
O this great beloved world and all the creatures in it.
It has to be spread out, the skin of this planet.

The trees must be washed, and the grasses and mosses.
They have to be polished as if made of green brass.
The rivers and little streams with their hidden cresses
and pale-coloured pebbles
and their fool's gold
must be washed and starched or shined into brightness,
the sheets of lake water
smoothed with the hand
and the foam of the oceans pressed into neatness.
It has to be ironed, the sea in its whiteness.

and pleated and goffered, the flower-blue sea
the protean, wine-dark, grey, green, sea
with its metres of satin and bolts of brocade.
And sky - such an 0! overhead - night and day
must be burnished and rubbed
by hands that are loving
so the blue blazons forth
and the stars keep on shining
within and above
and the hands keep on moving.

It has to be made bright, the skin of this planet
till it shines in the sun like gold leaf.
Archangels then will attend to its metals
and polish the rods of its rain.
Seraphim will stop singing hosannas
to shower it with blessings and blisses and praises
and, newly in love,
we must draw it and paint it
our pencils and brushes and loving caresses
smoothing the holy surfaces.