The Land of Yum

The Land of Yum

(©by Eric Grace 1-26-2012)

 

If and when the spirit comes to you

And you’ll find this comes to pass,

Where you gaze upon the moon above

Or upon a most beautiful lass,

Give yourself the subtle pleasure

To infinitely pursue

The gift that lies within this mortal flesh

Thy sacred Hand, Thy sacred Muse.

 

That golden basket that opens up

To share its gifts of Bounty,

That there within lies a precious form

Birthed from struggles,

Newly found and freely shared

into a land of plenty.

 

If you but find the way to walk

into this quiet pasture,

It will lead you by the hand

Into the heartland of your one and only

tried and true Heart Master.

 

Then forgive yourself of all you’ve lost

And gain yourself a new composure

That gives the rain its style and spin

While leaves the ground all

the wiser.

 

So whistle a sweet tarry or tune

And wiggle that silly temple

Find yourself refreshed and renewed amongst good friends

And your toil will last no longer.

 

Grieve the sacred heart

Your tears

And the mists of fog will rise above

Giving Heaven all the fears

which have grown from secrets

Stolen from the mud.

 

When you’ve cried your last wail

And the circles become complete

Dance a celebration song

And set sail to the new world

a living loving tenderness,

numerous in fleet.

 

And as you walk upon the shore

Tender warm sand at your feet

Touch the sacred earth, this land

Give a simple song or chant

Listen to your heart beat.

 

Praise the Golden Hand.

Thus Grace has given to you this Day

And all those still yet to come

You will live into this my love,

Onward! Into the Land of Yum.

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Broken Light

Broken Light

I lied.

I cheated.

I borrowed.

I stole.

I was perverse

in thought and action.

I fucked.

 

I ran naked through

the woods

screaming

Jehovah’s name.

 

I lost myself in

so many thoughts,

people, and delusions

of grandeur.

 

And now I’m here.

 

I have no dreams left.

I have cracked open

to my brokenness,

living in my core.

That place that is unredeemable

except

in the living it as such.

 

In being what I am

freshness cleanses

the wound

so that its revealed to be

my destiny,

giving birth

to this broken light.

 

I stumble down

these halls

banging against

my self-inflicted walls

pretending I’m great

or straight or narrow

when I’m not.

 

I’m nothing of the sort.

I’m wicked game.

A fuselage

ready to explode

rocketing into orbit

around the sun.

and it takes just one moment to

bring me there,

 

That place between

you and I

that hurts,

that groans,

that’s murky

and disgusting.

 

none of it is far from here,

if you but scratch the surface

of this moment.

That is my gift.

11-7-11

Eric Grace ©

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When Freedom Rings

When Freedom Rings

First, there was the Sound

that odd and then magnificent sound

the creaking door

edging its way

to a new position.

 

Then, there was the Light

blinding at first

from its newness

to the eyes of your heart

and then it became

so comforting

as it soothed

the eons

of despair

that had been its

ineffective replacement

or better said

its poor substitute.

 

This Light then found its way

down into the depths

of the dungeon

that you kept yourself in

where you had huddled in

and upon the beliefs,

the fears,

and the challenges

that broke your spirit

and hurt your soul

but this was your food.

 

Now as that thick door

finds its way to a new stance in your life

you come to know

that Grace

welcomes you

to your joy,

to your divine pleasure,

and to your calling to live

this moment

as your center.

 

And to give it freely

to those you love

and those that you have yet to love.

 

Celebration bells are ringing

as you come home to yourself

and to the Other

that is all around you.

You are free.

 

Eric Grace

9-20-2011 ©

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Shame and security

Shame and security

This fragile,

delicate life

is nowhere in sight

to the arm wrestlers’

twist of fate,

coupled with

the delinquents

noose of praise.

 

I raise my hand

in front of the class

waiting to be called on

for goodness sake…

to have an answer

when so many

elude me

is a relief,

if not a blessed thing.

 

Cramped in my womb

tossed about

by shame

I wish for shallow waters

but I find

that I can’t swim

so easily there.

 

Fragrant meadows

dodge me

as I wander about

in hopes

for security

to take hold of my hand

and lead me to a home

that I will never have to leave.

 

Eric Grace

8-3-11©

 

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This Burning Moth

 

This Burning Moth

I want to run to you

 

and burn up

 

in the Supernova

 

that you are.

 

 

 

I want to cast my

 

laborious space suit

 

aside

 

and step into the

 

delirium

 

of your bright shine

 

dancing the stars

 

away

 

into infinity.

 

 

 

I laugh at my insanity,

 

A death wish high

 

that surely will fall

 

but this teenage feeling

 

cannot go unnoticed

 

for it has me by the

 

head, heart, guts, and balls.

 

 

 

You take me to my depths

 

and you raise me to the Sky.

 

You move me to

 

Cuming and crying

 

in sacred

 

silent stills…

 

moments of candor

 

and flow

 

that ease the crust

 

of days gone by,

 

accepting

 

what I do not easily feel

 

with others,

 

as just the state of affairs

 

on Planet Earth

 

or perhaps

 

my delinquent account of the Heart,

 

projecting its lonesome love

 

dove

 

out to the seekers

 

that surround me.

 

 

 

For you my dear

 

are at One with me.

 

At home

 

in the Great Abyss

 

of

 

this Life.

 

 

 

We dance in it

 

together

 

And I forget of

 

this passion

 

I feel so fervorently.

 

 

 

thank you

 

for the gift

 

you awaken in me

 

that I can feel

 

this Alive!

 

 

 

You are so fucking Gorgeous!

 

 

 

I want you.

 

 

 

I want to Burn in you…

 

 

 

like a moth

 

in a flame.

 

 

 

Burn me up.

 

 

 

Burn me Up!

 

 

 

Fast.

 

Now.

 

 

 

Impulse drives

 

me to your doorstep

 

without a key

 

the door of flames

 

burst into my

 

heart

 

and takes me

 

to the place

 

of no names,

 

no words,

 

no nothing.

 

 

 

I drink Here

 

for the day has light

 

and the night

 

its own dark blanket

 

and I hide in both

 

until  I’m reminded

 

by you

 

of the glory

 

of Truly Living.

 

 

 

Eric Grace

 

7-29-11 ©

 

for Liz

 

 

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Having come and gone to now

Having come and gone to now

The whirlwinds have settled

the names have changed

the years have come

and become,

I am no longer to blame.

Death and grief,

rise and falls,

family losses

and falling aparts.

Divorces and marriages,

bankruptcies and courts,

Cults and children born

out of and into my heart

I am no longer remote.

Grace carries me

through thick and thin

while I am finding

my spirit and soul

coming together

as this fleshy within.

Out of the ashes

of a life torn apart

Springs form

a unique orchid blend blossom

giving fragrance

offered to the my loving Sun.

And everyone is welcome

who wishes for a sweet smell

and a beautiful vision

to ponder

that brings them back to square one.

Now, I am Singing a little song

like the mellow creek

that whispered its way along

beside the willow tree

down that street

that I once knew as home.

By Eric Grace on 4-16-2011 ©

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A Humble Banquet

leading

and living

these broken lives,

half-truths

and saviors

fade into the

background…

while the apparent

need to find perfection

subsides in the wake

of discovering

how we need

one another,

that in discovering

each other

we find the wholeness

of our humanity

and the rebirth

of our kindness

to the world

in all its wretched  humility

 

in this still place

I breathe

quietly

within me

I hear

the creek

flowing outside

and the harmony

of nature

and That which it abides

 

You and I

are a new story

in an old fabric

or tapestry

that grows denser

and more liquid

with time and age

but still remains

the same cloth

that our parents

and theirs’ used

to wipe their face upon

when the feast

of their lives

was finished.

 

Come to me

so that we can

make bread

for this day

and celebrate

the feast

that is ours

for the tasting.

3-23-11

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