All poetry © by Larry Davis

many to one, one to many

ritual to liberation, supernatural to natural
fantasy to reason, belief to experience
a journey of many
to find one thing

gods, icons and structures
stifling ritual and retribution
power, death and destruction
belief leads the way
inner sight is clouded
only one sees
the rest follow or die

the discovery of the inner
sparks a new way
to see with one’s own vision
but the ritual and belief were kept
it worked as well as the whip

where to go next?

many find the inner way
is sufficient without ritual and belief
it is a believable journey but without belief

liberation untethers us all
breaks the bonds
opens the door and removes it
tears down the walls and lets the roof fall

it then surrounds us completely
no matter the direction
we are here, there, everywhere
connected as one to the many.

— Dec. 2016

The Wind

It came in like the wind
and made the world bare.
no one knew it had come
no one tried to escape.

It blew away the past
and thoughts of the future.
A calamity?
no one knew
no one cared
no one worshiped or blamed the wind.
For it lives not in the wind
but in the spaces of everyday awareness.
Unidentified, unknowable – and yet holding
the world together.

— 1998


When time brings its own message
That the way to truth is there,
The feeling is not to be found
The sight cannot be sought.

The void of time and thought
Brings its own clarity
The way is not there, not here
It is all things, every moment.

The joy of finding it
The bliss of knowing it
Dissolves into infinity
Along with the seeker.

Beyond all knowing and seeing
Where self cannot reach,
Living in the still void
We exist for all time.

— October 1992


To flee, to run,
to make the space to be.
No destination in mind,
no escape plan made.

Get out! Run!
Leave it all behind.
Discard it all.
Forget it all.

Go light into the woods
with hardly a flavor of the past.
Watch your step as the
present takes over.

There is only going,
never arriving;
Once your destination is known
you are back where you started.

Flee! Keep going!.
Soar like the eagle.
There is no “there”
to stop your flight.

Higher, further.
Into the clouds.
Into the sun.
Your freedom has no limits,
your eyes will never close.

Away, away.
Beyond the past and future.
To find life in every molecule,
in every breath, in every
blink of the eye.

Now you see why
there is no coming or going.
It was always here, hidden
by the illusions of self.

You too can walk away,
go into the stillness and
be no more.

— June 1993

The Wings of Icons

On the wings of icons
we take a fanciful flight,
gaze into the mystery
and hope for second sight.

In the stillness we find
an unknowable clue.
We sit, and stare and
hope it is true.

The icon loses its meaning,
its presence is all we see,
we must never turn away
too afraid to be.

The mystery of the icon’s blessing
is not in what it shows,
it is our pure attention
that releases sorrow and woes.

When at last the
door opens wide,
we leave our friends
and discard the guide.

Across the ocean
to the other side,
it is so simple and ordinary
that we forget the ride.

Here we are and
here we stay,
the challenge was met
to never go astray.

We tell our friends
of life’s resting place,
of the journey that starts
and ends with no trace.


Heat & Light

It is interesting but unfortunate
that light and heat are so mistaken.
What we think is a knowing light
is but a stifling heat.

The friction of action
produces a heat we take as accomplishment
And the more we accomplish
the hotter we get.

The heat is but the internal workings
of image and obsession;
the frantic pursuit of the gold
we dangle in front of our eyes.

Why is it that when we burn out
we seek to renew the heat
and never think to seek shade?

There is another life waiting
in the cool, listless shade.
A life where accomplishment
consists of nothing but staying cool.

All that glitters is not gold.
Much of it is the heat that we believe is light.
Forget about regulating the heat;
Life flows in the cool, clear pasture of solitude.

— May 1993


Common love is an illusion,
It wants us to possess that which gives us pleasure,
It tells us to pursue the object of our desire,
It does not see beyond itself.

True love has no object, no goal:
It is just love.
The love where there is no “me”
and “you” is the rest of humanity.

Love that is not borne of self
Touches everything and yet nothing in particular.
This all-encompassing love
Frees us from the confines of self.

Once set free we can travel,
Protected from the harshness of life
Carried along on the wings of love
We consume ourselves in its wondrous flame.

— December 1992

I Give Up

I give up.
No one ever told me that
I didn’t have to knock myself out
chasing my ambitions.

I give up.
I never really knew the way,
but was certain so many times
that I was achieving my goals.
It was all an illusion, a fiction that I created and followed;
a carrot that I dangled in front of my eyes,
never to be reached.

I surrender.
Now I find there is peace in the giving up
and a freedom to explore other outcomes.
The mind, emptied, unburdened,
sees without preconceptions.
It’s all so simple.

I give up.
My will is
inadequate to the task.
I know it’s not the narrow path to
a goal shaped by the mind,
but in the infinite possibilities
that a freed mind can find.

I surrendered.
I can see clearly now,
I’m awake and ready to walk on my journey
wherever it takes me.
I’m free to be!

— August 2009

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