Posts Tagged ‘Awakened living’

Sunday Morning

Standing as a tree

where emptiness has me

I fear,

like walking on eggshells

that the wrong step

or thought

shall make it all disappear

like a faint mirage

or take me

into the unknown territories

of Self

where anything up to that moment

that would be recognizably me

vanishes forever.

Tis a fantasy

most likely

but one that holds me

still in these moments

with the sun,

as grace holds the candle

of truth

to my eyes and heart.

The outside becomes hollow

with a radiant stillness as its ground.

An emptiness,

I want to dive into…

becoming wholeheartedly One with

finding a sense of confidence

in discovering,


reliably me.

Something I can stand on, in, and as

that would serve as a backbone

to my rollercoaster life

that has not yet come to an end.

Its quiet here.

I rest with my restlessness

and wonder if and how

the emptiness will be filled

or better said

covered by a contraction of thoughts,

waves of feeling,

and constellations of people, relationships, and places

that tug me into the undertow

of past irreconcilable differences.

It cannot last for long,

I won’t let it.

But for now, it has me



at ease.

as my belly rumbles

for its morning meal.

Eric Grace



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Still Alone


alone at night

with sex having lost

its fright

and its rush

over me to wage war

in my loins

or push my buttons of passion

into self-pleasuring

or robust wanderings.


The emptiness revealed

consumes a quiet light

that delegates

a new dawn

to my doorstep,

as I am becoming familiar

with a man

my father did not know

and never will,

except in the eyes

of my son

if he ever dares to take

that flight out of the cold country

where I used to sleep.


I do not know

this road

that weeps its way

to new vistas

of plenty,

But it has a liberating leash

around my neck

and I’m happy

to be its pet

until freed

into the wild

of my true Heartland

of Sacred Desire.


Eric Grace


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Cruelty Free Being liberates the Day of Night

Crushed in currents

shaking my bows

sailing the salty seas

that make me weep

and cry

for the sailors I meet

and the sailor in me.

I stand up

in what I am

grateful to live

in this native Heartland.

I pray to God

others live and know

this gift as theirs

I hope to show.

The journeys on

to no longer fear

to tread

the days and


as Life’s bridegroom

I wed

in the Here.

I take her hand

and see her face

in all the women

I taste

in all the bosoms

I greet.

I carry the child

that once was

abandoned ashore

that crazy



and delusions


I frequent now

the hobbies of


that weave together

The Great Being

a most delicious

Life’s Bread.

I say my prayers

and Grace is given

through my heart

like Sunday


the face of grass

and the blossoms

of these Spring trees.

Eric Grace


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a poem by Eric Grace ©


You can’t tell me

that things aren’t fucked up.

In me

In you

In the world.

People blown to bits,

babies crying alone,

and animals crushed

by careless cars

passing by in broad daylight.

You can’t tell me

that there is no beauty

in this world.

How I persist in trying

to be a better man,

how she smiles

and sees my soul,

how the trees shake with their

colored leaves.

I have lived in days

where only

one exists.

The beauty I seek,

the wretchedness I avoid.

I see and feel both now,

together in seemless unity.

Inextricably woven together

as one grand Mystery.

This I cannot fathom

but must now live.

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a poem by Eric Grace ©


No longer willing

to lay the gauntlet bare

I stand naked

at experience’s front doorstep.

In its hand

I quake

at the certainty it has

for my life,

the gentle urgency

that I have no choice


but to live

the life I was given

from this moment

to the next.

A garden of fresh fruit

is awakened in my chest

and my gathering basket

is carried

between my legs.

I gather

the ripe edibles

and then prepare for the feast

with friends and family

yet to come together

at my request.

It will be a good dinner.

A good life.

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