Sculpting Souls

With foolish notions,
and mixed emotions,
and setting a lofty goal, proudly,
I set out to sculpt my own Soul.

There were no books,
and no teachers nor lessons;
but I saw golden examples
of man’s best intentions.

The perplexing answer
seemed outside to be…
What should I do? “Fix it,”
my self said to me.

But my Self said, “It isn’t out there,
it’s your attitude and emotions.
So, humbly bare your heart, and
stop your self's commotions.”

My Self said, “Be still,
let silence be your guide.
Listen to your Self, and forget
your precious personal pride.”

“You’re going around in circles,
and of that there is no further need.
Meditation and calming your self
is now your Selfless deed.”

So, I stood aside with
silence and patience,
and I felt the resistance
that’s been shaping me.

I saw that ugly map,
where I was trapped,
that was always just
outside of me.

I saw the Sculptor and
felt the tranquility. What's
The Sculptor? Our Souls,
as mine kindly sculpts me...

© 2013 by Michael G. Hesley
All Rights Reserved

Scorpio and Gemini

Walking in the cool light night,

stars brightly laughing and twinkling,

like heavenly eyes, mischievously peeking,

from the god's dark and velvety black delight.

The Twins, Taurus,

Orion the Great Hunter;

and Canis of Major size, with

Canis of Minor and lower wise…

Stouthearted men and hounds of old,

of tales of dramatic and golden bold.

Gemini draws my attention, their stars

faintly shine of little light or more...

Pollux, exuding the greatest of gallantry;

Castor, famous with the swiftest of steeds…

Their eyes burning bright in the cold wintry sky,

placed on high for their warm heroic deeds!

But they have a small and irritating bane…

Scorpio... Orion’s short and lethal destroyer,

could be the Twin’s thorny emotional pain…

Vice versa-ly… Must they be each other’s annoyer?

No one knows why it must be so…

Astrologers say that Scorpio’s and Gemini’s fight
and they yell, like demon spawn, from the depth's of hell…

Like the boiling blood of Water and Air, that just refuses to gel...

Is this truly so?

Does it have to be?

I laugh at astrologer’s fearful

prognostication for she and me…

In the full moon’s glow,

Scorpio's and Gemini’s music flows

with innocence and delight… Challenging

each in great ways with their respective rites...

Scorpio’s beauty and endless energy,

and the Twin’s innate mystical synergy,

their hearts open to boundless possibilities,

negating each other’s opposite qualities.

Que Bella La Luna!

Her beauty's Silvery Light burning Gemini's starry admiring eyes,

his Candle-Fire Eyes light up Scorpio's delicious feminine flora…

Will they join? Or will they each other despise?

Can they transcend astrology’s myth?

Will they step beyond it’s limiting grip?

Scorpio and Gemini dance in the moon’s insane light,

Wishing to hold each other with passion and lover’s delight…

Cautiously, carefully observing each other…

Courage and Fear, and Love and Grief,

patiently waiting for the lightest of Heaven’s sweet breath,

not sure of themselves, and not sure of each other…

Water and Air desiring and hoping for love…

Slightly perplexed in their place of sweet juncture.

Wanting and patiently waiting for desire’s first love…

Wondering if they’ll have love's fiery, and ecstatic rapture...

Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael G. Hesley

All Rights Reserved

I had great fun with this poem! I worked in a planetarium as a young man. I memorized the constellations, their mythologies, their stories of love, and power and dominance over mortal humans. The immortals and the gods were petty and always maneuvering for more power and position over each other and the humans below. Sound like anything today on earth we know?

This is for you Johann F... Ha!

Destroyer

Nothing ever lasts…
Some things will change,
and some things just won’t.
Iconic grist for the rending mill of life.

Iconoclasts exist for new change,
reactionaries live for the old same.
Some welcome new changes,
and some want their exhausting old ways.

Changeability is our way to survive,
bending with the storm is freedom’s way to arrive.
A stiff and dry branch breaks under the gale’s strain;
a flexible branch laughs against the storm's grain.

We’ll always have stormy Changes…
They blow in our faces and we make them our pain.
Our unchanging icons of our self's fabrication;
those icons that beg for their own Destruction.

Courage in the maw of our storms,
bending under the energetic strain.
Devastation for our self-made icons
by Dark storms that lay waste to self's illusions.

Annihilating,
ravaging,
and decimating our
self’s...

Self respectfully slays our self
with Sweet Surrender. 
And after the Dark storm, 
all that remains is the Beauty of Light.

Is this storm a gift our self asks?
Is it a bestowal from On High?

No; nothing so lofty,
as God’s All-Knowing Sight.
Something more subtle,
yet, just as bright…

It’s our chance to kindly Destroy our self’s,
and be free from our dark deceitful seductions.
It’s our chance to have a chance,
for beginningless and endless Destructions.

They are our Choices,
and our Changes...
It is our Surrender to continuous and
loving un-doing by the Destructive Light.

Softly let go of your stormy burdens,
breathe in its rending energy,
and give It back by letting It go...
And, our beguiling icons are Destroyed by Chi.

It’s the beginningless
of our endlessness...

It’s Simply Changing, 
and Surrendering our self to
our non-birth and new life of
Our Unimportant,
and Divine Self

Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael G. Hesley
All Rights Reserved