Yesterday, Today, & FOREVER The King of Pop

Books

Guinness World Records 60th Anniversary – Thriller


Moon Walk


On May 15th in 1988, Michael Jackson made the top of the “New York Times” best-seller list with his autobiography, “Moonwalk”.

>>> Randon House – exclusive photos & excerpts from Michael Jackson’s autobiography

The Moon is walking…Can You Feel It? Come and See…



Also on this day in the month of May, 1983 


1982’s Thriller, had seven hit singles and went on to break all music-industry sales records and made Michael Jackson a worldwide superstar. Michael Jackson premiered his “moonwalk” dance move in a May 1983 performance previously taped for the TV special “Motown 25: Yesterday, Today and Forever.” The Motown 25th Anniversary Special boosted enthusiasm for the release and spawned the “moonwalk,” in which he appeared to be slowly moving forward as he
actually moved backward–that is now synonymous with Jackson.

Michael Jackson: This Day In HIStory

 


Friends: A Love Story

Happily married actors Basset (Akeelah and the Bee) and Vance (“Law
& Order: Criminal Intent”) trade off chapters to tell their
parallel autobiographies in this welcoming testament to love, faith and
hard work.
 

They ran for
years as friends in the same small circles. They had some hits, but
mostly misses with other partners, and they shared one spectacularly
dreadful first date together. And then, Courtney and Angela connected.

Experience
the up-close-and-personal, real-life love story of this inspirational
African-American celebrity couple. Learn how they navigate the fickle
tides of fame, while keeping their relationship fresh and true. See how
they’ve carved a meaningful life together in spite of humble
beginnings, family tragedy and the ups and downs of stardom with love,
faith and determination.

http://www.amazon.com/Friends-Love-Story-Angela-Bassett/dp/0373830580


Dancing the Dream (1992) – Reflections

Michael Jackson the Writer

How I Make Music

People ask me how I make music. I tell them I just step into it. It’s like stepping into a river and joining the flow. Every moment in the river has its song. So I stay in the moment and listen.

What I hear is never the same. A walk through the woods brings a light, crackling song: Leaves rustle in the wind, birds chatter and squirrels scold, twigs crunch underfoot, and the beat of my heart holds it all together. When you join the flow, the music is inside and outside, and both are the same. As long as I can listen to the moment, I’ll always have music.

Dancing The Dream

Consciousness expresses itself through creation. This world we live in is the dance of the creator. Dancers come and go in the twinkling of an eye but the dance lives on. On many occasions when I’m dancing, I’ve felt touched by something sacred. In those moments, I’ve felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists. I become the stars and the moon. I become the lover and the beloved. I become the victor and the vanquished. I become the master and the slave. I become the singer and the song. I become the knower and the known. I keep on dancing and then, it is the eternal dance of creation. The creator and the creation merge into one wholeness of joy.

I keep on dancing and dancing . . . . . and dancing, until there is only . . . . . the dance.

Dance

I love the whole world of dance, because dancing is really the emotions through bodily movement. And however you feel, you just bring out that inner feeling through your mood. A lot of people don’t think about the importance of it, but there’s a whole psychological thing to just letting loose. Dancing is important, like laughing, to back off tension. Escapism…it’s great.

I really believe that each person has a destiny from the day he’s born, and certain people have a thing they’re meant to do. There’s a reason why the Japanese are better at technology, and a reason why the Negro race are more into music – you go back to Africa and the tribes and the beating of the drums…

I love Studio 54 in New York; it’s so theatrical and dramatic. People come there as characters, and it’s like going to a play. You make yourself up to be this thing and just go crazy with the lights and the music, and you’re in another world. It’s very escapist…

Escapism and wonder is influence. It makes you feel good, and that allows you to do things. You just keep on moving ahead, and you say, “God, is this wonderful – do I appreciate it.”

Dance Of Life

I cannot escape the moon. Its soft beams push aside the curtains at night. I don’t even have to see it – a cool blue energy falls across my bed and I am up. I race down the dark hall and swing open the door, not to leave home but to go back to it. “Moon, I’m here!” I shout. “Good,” she replies. “Now give us a little dance.” But my body has started moving long before she says anything. When did it start? I can’t remember – my body has always been moving. Since childhood I have reacted to the moon this way, as her favorite lunatic, and not just hers. The stars draw me near, close enough so that I see through their twinkling act. They’re dancing too; doing a soft molecular jiggle that makes my carbon atoms jump in time.

With my arms flung wide, I head for the sea, which brings out another dance in me. Moon dancing is slow inside, and soft as blue shadows on the lawn. When the surf booms, I hear the heart of the earth, and the tempo picks up. I feel the dolphins leaping in the white foam, trying to fly, and almost flying when the waves curl high to the heavens. Their tails leave arcs of light as plankton glow in the waves. A school of minnows rise up, flashing silver in the moonlight like a new constellation. “Ah!” the sea says. “Now we’re gathering a crowd.”

I run along the beach, catching waves with one foot and dodging them with the other. I hear faint popping sounds – a hundred panicky sand crabs are ducking into their holes, just in case. But I’m racing now, sometimes on my toes, sometimes running flat-out. I throw my head back and a swirling nebula says, “Fast now, twirl!” Grinning, ducking my head for balance, I start to spin as wildly as I can. This is my favorite dance, because it contains a secret. The faster I twirl, the more I am still inside. My dance is all motion without, all silence within. As much as I love to make music, it’s the unheard music that never dies. And silence is my real dance, though it never moves. It stands aside, my choreographer of grace, and blesses each finger and toe.

I have forgotten the moon now and the sea and the dolphins, but I am in their joy more than ever. As far away as a star, as near as a grain of sand, the presence rises, shimmering with light. I could be in it forever; it is so loving and warm. But touch it once, and the light shoots forth from stillness. It quivers and thrills me, and I know my fate is to show others that this silence, this light, this blessing is my dance. I take this gift only to give it again. “Quick, give!” says the light.

As never before, I try to obey, inventing new steps, new gestures of joy. All at once I sense were I am, running back up the hill. The light in my bedroom is on. Seeing it brings me back down. I begin to feel my pounding heart, the drowsiness in my arms, the warm blood in my legs. My cells want to dance slower. “Can we walk a little?” they ask. “It’s been kind of wild.” “Sure.” I laugh, slowing to an easy amble.

I turn the doorknob, panting lightly, glad to be tired. Crawling back into bed, I remember something that I always wonder at. They say that some of the stars that you see overhead aren’t really there. Their light takes millions of years to reach us, and all we are doing is looking into the past, into a bygone moment when those stars could still shine. “So what does a star do after it quits shining?” I ask myself. “Maybe it dies.” “Oh, no,” a voice in my head says. “A star can never die. It just turns into a smile and melts back into the cosmic music, the dance of life.” I like that thought, the last one that I have before my eyes close. With a smile, I melt back into the music myself.

Our Destiny

When I get on stage, I don’t know what happens. It feels so good, it’s like the safest place in the world for me…I was raised on stage.

Certain people were created for certain things, and I think our job is to entertain the world. I don’t see no other thing that I could be doing.

I’ve seen the very rich and the very poor, but I’m mainly interested in the poor…I want to appreciate what I have, and try to help others.

When I go to other countries, I wish to see the “poorer” parts. I want to see what it’s really like to starve. I don’t want to hear it, or read it. I want to see it.

It’s a whole different thing when you see it! All the things I’ve read in my schoolbooks about England and the Queen were okay, but my eyes are the greatest book in the world. When we did the Royal Command Performance, and then after it I actually looked into the Queen’s eyes, it was the greatest thing! And it’s the same with starvation, when you see it, you receive a little more…

God

It’s strange that God doesn’t mind expressing Himself/Herself in all the religions of the world, while people still cling to the notion that their way is the only right way. Whatever you try to say about God, someone will take offense, even if you say everyone’s love of God is right for them. For me the form God takes is not the most important thing. What’s most important is the essence. My songs and dances are outlines for Him to come in and fill. I hold out the form. She puts in the sweetness.

I’ve looked up at the night sky and beheld the stars so intimately close, it was as if my grandmother had made them for me. “How rich, how sumptuous,” I thought. In that moment I saw God in His creation. I could as easily have seen Her in the beauty of a rainbow, the grace of a deer bounding through a meadow, the truth of a father’s kiss. But for me the sweetest contact with God has no form. I close my eyes, look within, and enter a deep soft silence. The infinity of God’s creation embraces me. We are one.

Love

Love is a funny thing to describe. It’s so easy to feel and yet so slippery to talk about. It’s like a bar of soap in the bathtub – you have it in your hand until you hold on too tight.

Some people spend their lives looking for love outside themselves. They think they have to grasp it in order to have it. But love slips away like that wet bar of soap.

Holding on to love is not wrong, but you need to learn to hold it lightly, caressingly. Let it fly when it wants. When it’s allowed to be free, love is what makes life alive, joyful, and new. It’s the juice and energy that motivates my music, my dancing, everything. As long as love is in my heart, it’s everywhere.

Innocence

It’s easy to mistake being innocent for being simpleminded or naive. We all want to seem sophisticated; we all want to seem street-smart. To be innocent is to be “out of it.”

Yet there is a deep truth in innocence. A baby looks in his mother’s eyes, and all he sees is love. As innocence fades away, more complicated things take its place. We think we need to outwit others and scheme to get what we want. We begin to spend a whole lot of energy protecting ourselves. Then life turns into a struggle. People have no choice but to be street-smart. How else can they survive?

When you get right down to it, survival means seeing things the way they really are and responding. It means being open. And that’s what innocence is. It’s simple and trusting like a child, not judgmental and committed to one narrow point of view. If you are locked into a pattern of thinking and responding, your creativity gets blocked. You miss the freshness and magic of the moment. Learn to be innocent again, and that freshness never fades.

Trust

As I was feeding squirrels in the park, I noticed a small one that didn’t seem to trust me. While the others came close enough to eat out of my hand, he kept his distance. I threw a peanut his way. He edged up, grabbed it nervously, and ran off. Next time he must have felt less afraid, because he came a little closer. The safer he felt, the more he trusted me. Finally he sat right at my feet, as bold as any squirrel clamoring for the next peanut.

Trust is like that – it always seems to come down to trusting in yourself. Others can’t overcome fear for you; you have to do it on your own. It’s hard, because fear and doubt hold on tight. We are afraid of being rejected, of being hurt once more. So we keep a safe distance. We think separating ourselves from others will protect us, but that doesn’t work, either. It leaves us feeling alone and unloved.

Trusting yourself begins by recognizing that it’s okay to be afraid. Having fear is not the problem, because everyone feels anxious and insecure sometimes. The problem is not being honest enough to admit your fear. Whenever I accept my own doubt and insecurity, I’m more open to other people. The deeper I go into myself, the stronger I become, because I realize that my real self is much bigger than any fear. In accepting yourself completely, trust becomes complete. There is no longer any separation between people, because there is no longer any separation inside. In the space where fear used to live, love is allowed to grow.

Courage

It’s curious what takes courage and what doesn’t. When I step out on stage in front of thousands of people, I don’t feel that I’m being brave. It takes much more courage to express true feelings to one person. When I think of courage, I think of the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz. He was always running away from danger. He often cried and shook with fear. But he was also sharing his real feelings with those he loved, even though he didn’t always like those feelings.

That takes real courage, the courage to be intimate. Expressing your feelings is not the same as falling apart in front of someone else, it’s being accepting and true to your own heart, whatever it may say. When you have the courage to be intimate, you know who you are, and you’re willing to let others see that. It’s scary, because you feel so vulnerable, so open to rejection. But without self-acceptance, the other kind of courage, the kind heroes show in movies, seems hollow. In spite of the risks, the courage to be honest and intimate opens the way to self discovery. It offers what we all want, the promise of love.

Wings Without Me

It was August, and I was looking up at the sky. With one hand shielding my eyes, I made out a falcon soaring on the currents of hot swirling air. Higher and higher it spiraled, until with one unearthly shriek, it disappeared. All at once I felt left behind. “Why did you grow wings without me?” I mourned. Then my spirit said, “The falcon’s way is not the only way. Your thoughts are as free as any bird.” So I shut my eyes and my spirit took off, spiraling as high as the falcon and then beyond, so that I was looking down over the whole earth. But something was wrong. Why did I feel so cold and alone?

“You grew wings without me,” my heart said. “What good is freedom without love?” So I went quietly to the bed of a sick child and sang him a lullaby. He fell asleep smiling, and my heart took off, joining my spirit as it circled over the earth. I was free and loving, but still something was wrong. “You grew wings without me,” my body said. “Your flights are only imagination.” So I looked into books that I had ignored before and read about saints in every age who actually flew. In India, Persia, China, and Spain (even in Los Angeles!), the power of spirit has reached, not just into the heart, but into every cell of the body. “As if carried aloft by a great eagle,” Saint Teresa said, “my ecstasy lifted me into the air.”

I began to believe in this amazing feat, and for the first time, I didn’t feel left behind. I was the falcon and the child and the saint. In my eyes their lives became sacred, and the truth came home: When all life is seen as divine, everyone grows wings.

But The Heart Said No

They saw the poor living in cardboard shacks, so they knocked the shacks down and built projects. Huge blocks of cement and glass towered over asphalt parking lots. Somehow it wasn’t much like home, even home in a shack. “What do you expect?” they asked impatiently. “You’re too poor to live like us. Until you can do better for yourselves, you should be grateful, shouldn’t you?” The head said yes, but the heart said no. They needed more electricity in the city, so they found a mountain stream to dam. As the waters rose, dead rabbits and deer floated by; baby birds too young to fly drowned in the nest while mother birds cried helplessly. “It’s not a pretty sight,” they said, “but now a million people can run their air conditioners all summer. That’s more important than one mountain stream, isn’t it?” The head said yes, but the heart said no.

They saw oppression and terrorism in a far-off land, so they made war against it. Bombs reduced the country to rubble. Its population cowered in fear, and every day more villagers were buried in rough wooden coffins. “You have to be prepared to make sacrifices,” they said. “If some innocent bystanders get hurt, isn’t that just the price one must pay for peace?” The head said yes, but the heart said no.

The years rolled by and they got old. Sitting in their comfortable houses, they took stock. “We’ve had a good life,” they said, “and we did the right thing.” Their children looked down and asked why poverty, pollution, and war were still unsolved. “You’ll find out soon enough,” they replied. “Human beings are weak and selfish. Despite our best efforts, these problems will never really end.”

The head said yes, but the children looked into their hearts and whispered, “No!”

So The Elephants March

A curious fact about elephants is this: In order to survive, they mustn’t fall down. Every other animal can stumble and get back up again. But an elephant always stands up, even to sleep. If one of the herd slips and falls, it is helpless. It lies on its side, a prisoner of its own weight. Although the other elephants will press close around it in distress and try to lift it up again, there isn’t usually much they can do. With slow heaving breaths, the fallen elephant dies. The others stand vigil, then slowly move on. This is what I learned from nature books, but I wonder if they are right.

Isn’t there another reason why elephants can’t fall down? Perhaps they have decided not to. Not to fall down is their mission. As the wisest and most patient of the animals, they made a pact – I imagine it was eons ago, when the ice ages were ending. Moving in great herds across the face of the earth, the elephants first spied tiny men prowling the tall grasses with their flint spears. “What fear and anger this creature has,” the elephants thought. “But he is going to inherit the earth. We are wise enough to see that. Let us set an example for him.”

Then the elephants put their grizzled heads together and pondered. What kind of example could they show to man? They could show him that their power was much greater than his, for that was certainly true. They could display their anger before him, which was terrible enough to uproot whole forests. Or they could lord it over man through fear, trampling his fields and crushing his huts. In moments of great frustration, wild elephants will do all of these things, but as a group, putting their heads together, they decided that man would learn best from a kinder message.

“Let us show him our reverence for life,” they said. And from that day on, elephants have been silent, patient, peaceful creatures. They let men ride them and harness them like slaves. They permit children to laugh at their tricks in the circus, exiled from the great African plains where they once lived as lords. But the elephants’ most important message is in their movement. For they know that to live is to move. Dawn after dawn, age after age, the herds march on, one great mass of life that never falls down, an unstoppable force of peace.

Innocent animals, they do not suspect that after all this time, they will fall from a bullet by the thousands. They will lie in the dust, mutilated by our shameless greed. The great males fall first, so that their tusks can be made into trinkets. Then the females fall, so that men may have trophies. The babies run screaming from the smell of their own mothers’ blood, but it does them no good to run from the guns. Silently, with no one to nurse them, they will die, too, and all their bones bleach in the sun.

In the midst of so much death, the elephants could just give up. All they have to do is drop to the ground. That is enough. They don’t need a bullet: Nature has given them the dignity to lie down and find their rest. But they remember their ancient pact and their pledge to us, which is sacred. So the elephants march on, and every tread beats out words in the dust: “Watch, learn, love. Watch, learn, love.” Can you hear them? One day in shame, the ghosts of ten thousand lords of the plains will say, “We do not hate you. Don’t you see at last? We were willing to fall, so that you, dear small ones, will never fall again.”

Children

Children show me in their playful smiles the divine in everyone. This simple goodness shines straight from their hearts. This has so much to teach. If a child wants chocolate ice cream, he just asks for it. Adults get tangled up in complications over whether to eat the ice cream or not. A child simply enjoys. What we need to learn from children isn’t childish. Being with them connects us to the deep wisdom of life, which is ever present and only asks to be lived. Now, when the world is so confused and its problems so complicated, I feel we need our children more than ever. Their natural wisdom points the way to solutions that lie, waiting to be recognized, within our own hearts.

On Children Of The World

We have to heal our wounded world. The chaos, despair, and senseless destruction we see today are a result of the alienation that people feel from each other and their environment. Often this alienation has its roots in an emotionally deprived childhood. Children have had their childhood stolen from them. A child’s mind needs the nourishment of mystery, magic, wonder, and excitement. I want my work to help people rediscover the child that’s hiding in them.

Magic

My idea of magic doesn’t have much to do with stage tricks and illusions. The whole world abounds in magic. When a whale plunges out of the sea like a newborn mountain, you gasp in unexpected delight. What magic! But a toddler who sees his first tadpole flashing in a mud puddle feels the same thrill. Wonder fills his heart, because he has glimpsed for an instant the playfulness of life. When I see the clouds whisked away from a snow-capped peak, I feel like shouting, “Bravo!” Nature, the best of all magicians, has delivered another thrill. She has exposed the real illusion, our inability to be amazed by her wonders. Every time the sun rises, Nature is repeating one command: “Behold!” Her magic is infinitely lavish, and in return all we have to do is appreciate it.

What delight Nature must feel when she makes stars out of swirling gas and empty space. She flings them like spangles from a velvet cape, a billion reasons for us to awaken in pure joy. When we open our hearts and appreciate all she has given us, Nature finds her reward. The sound of applause rolls across the universe, and she bows.

The Fish That Was Thirsty

One night a baby fish was sleeping under some coral when God appeared to him in a dream. “I want you to go forth with a message to all the fish in the sea,” God said. “What should I tell them?” the little fish asked. “Just tell them you’re thirsty,” God replied. “And see what they do.” Then without another word, He disappeared.

The next morning the little fish woke up and remembered his dream. “What a strange thing God wants me to do,” he thought to himself. But as soon as he saw a large tuna swimming by, the little fish piped up, “Excuse me, but I’m thirsty.” “Then you must be a fool,” then tuna said. And with a disdainful flick of his tail, he swam away.

The little fish did feel rather foolish, but he had his orders. The next fish he saw was a grinning shark. Keeping a safe distance, the little fish called out, “Excuse me, sir, but I’m thirsty.” “Then you must be crazy,” the shark replied. Noticing a rather hungry look in the shark’s eye, the little fish swam away quickly. All day he met cod and mackerels and swordfish and groupers, but every time he made his short speech, they turned their backs and would have nothing to do with him. Feeling hopelessly confused, the little fish sought out the wisest creature in the sea, who happened to be an old blue whale with three harpoon scars on his side.

“Excuse me, but I’m thirsty!” the little fish shouted, wondering if the old whale could even see him, he was such a tiny speck. But the wise one stopped in his tracks. “You’ve seen God, haven’t you?” he said. “How did you know?” “Because I was thirsty once, too.” The old whale laughed. The little fish looked very surprised. “Please tell me what this message from God means,” he implored.

“It means that we are looking for Him in the wrong places,” the old whale explained. “We look high and low for God, but somehow He’s not there. So we blame Him and tell ourselves that He must have forgotten us. Or else we decide that He left a long time ago, if He was ever around.” “How strange,” the little fish said, “to miss what is everywhere.” “Very strange,” the old whale agreed. “Doesn’t it remind you of fish who say they’re thirsty?”

Berlin 1989

They hated the Wall, but what could they do? It was too strong to break through. They feared the Wall, but didn’t that make sense? Many who tried to climb over it were killed. They distrusted the Wall, but who wouldn’t? Their enemies refused to tear down one brick, no matter how long the peace talks dragged on. The Wall laughed grimly. “I’m teaching you a good lesson,” it boasted. “If you want to build for eternity, don’t bother with stones. Hatred, fear, and distrust are so much stronger.” They knew the Wall was right, and they almost gave up. Only one thing stopped them. They remembered who was on the other side. Grandmother, cousin, sister, wife. Beloved faces that yearned to be seen. “What’s happening?” the Wall asked, trembling. Without knowing what they did, they were looking through the Wall, trying to find their dear ones. Silently, from one person to another, love kept up its invisible work. “Stop it!” the Wall shrieked. “I’m falling apart.” But it was too late. A million hearts had found each other. The Wall had fallen before it came down.

Angel Of Light

It’s hard to see angels, although I’ve stared at their pictures for hours. Some people can see them without pictures, and they tell interesting tales. Guardian angels are all female, for instance, which didn’t surprise me once I found out. A birth angel, recruited from the younger ranks, attends every baby when it appears, while another angel, older but not grim, helps the dying to leave this world without grief or pain.

You can pray to the angels and they will listen, but the best way to call them, I am told, is to laugh. Angels respond to delight, because that is what they’re made of. In fact, when people’s minds are clouded by anger or hatred, no angel can reach them.

Not all angels have wings — so the visionaries claim — but those who do can unfurl a span of golden feathers stretching over the entire world. If you had eyes that could look straight into the sun, you would see an overwhelming angel presiding there; a more serene one smiles out from the face of the moon.

Angels spend their entire lives, which are forever, spinning around the Creator’s throne, singing His praise. People with keen ears have listened in. The harmonies of the angelic choir are incredibly complex, they say, but the rhythm is simple. “It’s mostly march time,” one eavesdropper affirmed. For some reason, that fact is almost the best I have learned so far.

After a while it got lonely hearing about angels you couldn’t see for yourself. When an angel-watcher heard that, she was shocked. “Not see?” she said. “But you have an angel in you. Everybody does. I can see it right now, and I thought you could, too.” “No,” I said sadly, and I asked what it looked like. “Did it look like me?”

“Well, yes and no,” the angel-watcher mysterious answered. “It all depends on what you think you are. Your angel is a speck of light perched at the very center of your heart. It is smaller than an atom, but just wait. Once you get close to it, your angel will expand. The closer you come, the more it will grow, until finally, in a burst of light, you will see your angel in its true shape, and at that very instant, you will also see yourself.”

So now I am looking for my angel all the time. I sit silently, turning my gaze inward. It wasn’t long before I caught a glimpse of something. “Is that you, Angel, holding a candle?” One flicker and it was gone. Yet that was enough to set my heart wildly beating. Next time my angel will be waving a lamp, then holding a torch aloft, then lighting a bonfire.

That’s what the angel-watcher promised, and now that I have caught sight of glory, I know enough to believe.

That One In The Mirror

I wanted to change the world, so I got up one morning and looked in the mirror. That one looking back said: “There is not much time left. The earth is wracked with pain. Children are starving. Nations remain divided by mistrust and hatred. Everywhere the air and water have been fouled almost beyond help. Do something!”

That one in the mirror felt very angry and desperate. Everything looked like a mess, a tragedy, a disaster. I decided he must be right. Didn’t I feel terrible about these things, too, just like him? The planet was being used up and thrown away. Imagining earthly life just one generation from now made me feel panicky.

It was not hard to find the good people who wanted to solve the earth’s problems. As I listened to their solutions, I thought, There is so much good will here, so much concern. At night before going to bed, that one in the mirror looked back at me seriously, Now we’ll get somewhere, he declared. If everybody does their part.

But everybody didn’t do their part. Some did, but were they stopping the tide? Were pain, starvation, hatred, and pollution about to be solved? Wishing wouldn’t make it so – I knew that. When I woke up the next morning, that one in the mirror looked confused. Maybe it’s hopeless, he whispered… Then a sly look came into his eyes, and he shrugged. But you and I will survive. At least we are doing all right.

I felt strange when he said that. There was something very wrong here. A faint suspicion came to me, one that had never dawned so clearly before. What if that one in the mirror isn’t me? He feels separate. He sees problems – out there – to be solved. Maybe they will be, maybe they won’t. He’ll get along. But I don’t feel that way – those problems aren’t out there, not really. I feel them inside me. A child crying in Ethiopia, a sea gull struggling pathetically in an oil spill, a mountain gorilla being mercilessly hunted, a teenage soldier trembling with terror when he hears the planes fly over. Aren’t these happening in me when I see and hear about them?

The next time I looked in the mirror, that one looking back had started to fade. It was only an image after all. It showed me a solitary person enclosed in a neat package of skin and bones. “Did I once think you were me?” I began to wonder. I am not so separate and afraid. The pain of life touches me, but the joy of life is so much stronger. And it alone will heal. Life is the healer of life, and the most I can do for the earth is to be its loving child.

That one in the mirror winced and squirmed. He hadn’t thought so much about love. Seeing problems was much easier, because love means complete self-honesty. Ouch!

Oh, friend, I whispered to him, do you think anything can solve problems without love? That one in the mirror wasn’t sure. Being alone for so long, not trusting others and being trusted by others, it tended to detach itself from the reality of life. “Is love more real than pain?” he asked.

“I can’t promise that it is. But it might be. Let’s discover”, I said. I touched the mirror with a grin. “Let’s not be alone again. Will you be my partner? I hear a dance starting up. Come”. That one in the mirror smiled shyly. He was realizing we could be best friends. We could be more peaceful, more loving, more honest with each other every day.

“Would that change the world?” I think it will, because Mother Earth wants us to be happy and to love her as we tend her needs. She needs fearless people on her side, whose courage comes from being part of her, like a baby who is brave enough to walk because Mother is holding out her arms to catch him. When that one in the mirror is full of love for me and for him, there is no room for fear. When we were afraid and panicky, we stopped loving this life of ours and this earth.

We disconnected. Yet how can anybody rush to help the earth if they feel disconnected? Perhaps the earth is telling us what she wants, and by not listening, we fall back on our own fear and panic.

One thing I know: I never feel alone when I am earth’s child. I do not have to cling to my personal survival as long as I realize, day by day, that all of life is in me. The children and their pain; the children and their joy. The ocean swelling under the sun; the ocean weeping with black oil. The animals hunted in fear; the animals bursting with the sheer joy of being alive.

This sense of – the world in me – is how I always want to feel. That one in the mirror has his doubts sometimes. So I am tender with him. Every morning I touch the mirror and whisper,

Oh, friend, I hear a dance. Will you be my partner? Come.

Look Again Baby Seal

One of the most touching nature photographs is of a baby fur seal lying on the ice alone. I’m sure you have seen it — the picture seems to be all eyes, the trusting dark eyes of a small animal gazing up at the camera and into your heart. When I first looked at them, the eyes asked, “Are you going to hurt me?” I knew the answer was yes, because thousands of baby seals were being killed every year.

Many people were touched by one baby seal’s helplessness. They gave money to save the seals, and public awareness started to shift. As I returned to the picture, those two wide eyes began to say something different. Now they asked, “Do you know me?” This time I didn’t feel so much heartache as when I felt the violence man inflicts upon animals.

But I realized that there was still a big gap. How much did I really know about life on earth? What responsibility did I feel for creatures outside my little space? How could I lead my life so that every cell of living matter was also benefited?

Everyone who began to wonder about these things found, I think, that their feelings were shifting away from fear toward more closeness with life as a whole. The beauty and wonder of life began to seem very personal; the possibility of making the planet a garden for all of us to grow in began to dawn. I looked into the eyes of the baby seal, and for the first time they smiled. “Thank you,” they said. “You have given me hope.”

Is that enough? Hope is such a beautiful word, but it often seems very fragile. Life is still being needlessly hurt and destroyed. The image of one baby seal alone on the ice or one baby girl orphaned in war is still frightening in its helplessness. I realized that nothing would finally save life on earth but trust in life itself, in its power to heal, in its ability to survive our mistakes and welcome us back when we learn to correct those mistakes.

With these thoughts in my heart, I looked at the picture again. The seal’s eyes seemed much deeper now, and I saw something in them that I had missed before: unconquerable strength. “You have not hurt me,” they said. “I am not one baby alone. I am life, and life can never be killed. It is the power that brought me forth from the emptiness of space; it cared for me and nourished my existence against all dangers. I am safe because I am that power. And so are you. Be with me, and let us feel the power of life together, as one creature here on earth.”

Baby seal, forgive us. Look at us again and again to see how we are doing. Those men who raise their clubs over you are also fathers and brothers and sons. They have loved and cared for others. One day they will extend that love to you. Be sure of it and trust.

A Child Is A Song

When children listen to music, they don’t just listen. They melt into the melody and flow with the rhythm. Something inside starts to unfold its wings – soon the child and the music are one. I feel that way, too, in the presence of music, and my best moments of creativity have often been spent with children. When I am around them, music comes to me as easily as breathing.

Each song is a child I nourish and give my love to. But even if you have never written a song, your life is a song. How can it not be? In wave after wave, Nature caresses you – the rhythm of each dawn and each sunset is part of you, the falling rain touches your soul, and you see yourself in the clouds that are playing tag with the sun. To live is to be musical, starting with the blood dancing in your veins. Everything living has a rhythm. To feel each one, softly and attentively, brings out its music.

Do you feel your music?

Children do, but once we grow up, life becomes a burden and a chore, and the music grows fainter. Sometimes the heart is so heavy that we turn away from it and forget that its throbbing is the wisest message of life, a wordless message that says, “Live, be, move, rejoice — you are alive!” Without the heart’s wise rhythm, we could not exist.

When I begin to feel a little tired or burdened, children revive me. I turn to them for new life, for new music. Two brown eyes look at me so deeply, so innocently, and inside I murmur, “This child is a song.” It is so true and direct an experience that instantly I realize again, “I am a song also.” I am back to myself once more.

I You We

I said you had to do it. You said you didn’t want to. We talked about it, and we agreed that maybe I could help. I said you were wrong. You insisted you were right. We held each other’s hand, and right and wrong disappeared. I began crying. You began crying, too. We embraced, and between us grew a flower of peace. How I love this mystery called We! Where does it come from, out of thin air?

I thought about this mystery, and I realized something: We must be love’s favorite child, because until I reach out for you, We is not even there. It arrives on the wings of tenderness: it speaks through our silent understanding. When I laugh at myself, it smiles. When I forgive you, it dances in jubilation. So We is not a choice anymore, not if you and I want to grow with one another. We unites us, increases our strength; it picks up our burden when you and I are ready to let it fall. The truth is that you and I would have given up long ago, but We won’t let us. It is too wise. “Look into your hearts,” it says. “What do you see? Not you and I, but only We.”

Mother Earth

I was walking along the beach one winter day. Looking down, I saw a wave push a feather up on the sand. It was a sea gull feather stained with oil. I picked it up and felt the dark slick film on my fingers. I couldn’t help wondering if the bird had survived. Was it all right out there? I knew it wasn’t.

I felt sad to think how carelessly we treat our home. The earth we all share is not just a rock tossed through space but a living, nurturing being. She cares for us; she deserves our care in return. We’ve been treating Mother Earth the way some people treat a rental apartment. Just trash it and move on.

But there’s no place to move on to now. We have brought our garbage and our wars and our racism to every part of the world. We must begin to clean her up, and that means cleaning up our own hearts and minds first, because they led us to poison our dear planet. The sooner we change, the easier it will be to feel our love for Mother Earth and the love she so freely gives back to us.

Don’t Judge

Like the old Indian proverb says, “Do not judge a man until you’ve walked 2 moons in his moccasins”. Most people don’t know me, that is why they write such things in which MOST is not true. I cry very often because it hurts and I worry about the children all over the world, I live for them.

If a man could say nothing against a character but what he can prove, history could not be written.

Animals strike, not from malice, but because they want to live, it is the same with those who criticize; they desire our BLOOD, not our pain. But still I must achieve I must seek truth in all things. I must endure for the power I was sent forth, for the world, for the children.

But have mercy, for I’ve been bleeding a long time now.

The Last Tear

Your words stabbed my heart, and I cried tears of pain. “Get out!” I shouted. “These are the last tears I’ll ever cry for you.” So you left. I waited for hours, but you didn’t return. That night by myself I cried tears of frustration. I waited weeks, but you had nothing to say. Thinking of your voice, I cried tears of loneliness. I waited months, but you left no sign for me. In the depths of my heart, I cried tears of despair. How strange that all these tears could not wash away the hurt! Then one thought of love pierced my bitterness. I remembered you in the sunlight, with a smile as sweet as May wine. A tear of gratitude started to fall, and miraculously, you were back. Soft fingers touched my cheek, and you bent over for a kiss. “Why have you come?” I whispered. “To wipe away your last tear,” you replied. “It was the one you saved for me.”

>>> Dancing the Dream (1992) – POEMS

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MJJRealRealm HOMEPAGE


Dancing the Dream (1992) – Poems


Are You Listening?

Who am I?
Who are you?
Where did we come from?
Where are we going?
What’s it all about?
Do you have the answers?

Immortality’s my game
From Bliss I came
In Bliss I am sustained
To Bliss I return
If you don’t know it now
It’s a shame
Are you listening?

This body of mine
Is a flux of energy
In the river of time
Eons pass, ages come and go
I appear and disappear
Playing hide-and-seek
In the twinkling of an eye

I am the particle
I am the wave
Whirling at lightning speed
I am the fluctuation
That takes the lead
I am the Prince
I am the Knave
I am the doing
That is the deed
I am the galaxy, the void of space
In the Milky Way
I am the craze

I am the thinker, the thinking, the thought
I am the seeker, the seeking, the sought
I am the dewdrop, the sunshine, the storm
I am the phenomenon, the field, the form
I am the desert, the ocean, the sky
I am the Primeval Self
In you and I

Pure unbounded consciousness
Truth, existence, Bliss am I
In infinite expressions I come and go
Playing hide-and-seek
In the twinkling of an eye
But immortality’s my game

Eons pass
Deep inside
I remain
Ever the same
From Bliss I came
In Bliss I am sustained

Join me in my dance
Please join me now
If you forget yourself
You’ll never know how
This game is played
In the ocean bed of Eternity

Stop this agony of wishing
Play it out
Don’t think, don’t hesitate
Curving back within yourself
Just create…just create

Immortality’s my game
From Bliss I came
In Bliss I’m sustained
To Bliss I return
If you don’t know it now
It’s a shame
Are you listening?

Children Of The World

Children of the world, we’ll do it
We’ll meet on endless shores
Making sandcastles and floating our boats
While people fight and defend their point of view
Forever putting on masks that are new
We’ll swing the tide of time and do it.

Children of the world, we’ll do it
With song and dance and innocent bliss
And the soft caress of a loving kiss
We’ll do it.

While traders trade and haggle their price
And politicians try so hard to be nice
We’ll meet on endless shores and floating our boats
We’ll do it.

While lawyers argue and doctors treat
Stockbrokers quote the price on meat
While preachers preach and ring the bell
Carpetbaggers with something to sell
We’ll sing and dance in innocent bliss
With the soft caress of a loving kiss
We’ll do it
Meeting on endless shores
Making sandcastles and floating our boats
We’ll do it.

We’ll ride a rainbow, a cloud, a storm
Flying in the wind, we’ll change our form
We’ll touch the stars, embrace the moon
We’ll break the barrier and be there soon

While architects plan their buildings high
And trade unions raise their hue and cry
While boardroom squabbles generate heat
And in secret places dealers meet
We’ll sing and dance in innocent bliss
With the soft caress of a loving kiss
We’ll do it.

While philosophers grapple and continue to tackle
Endless dilemmas of body and mind
Physicists wander, continue to ponder
Perennial questions of space and time
Archaeologists survey, continue to dig
Bygone treasures small and big
Psychologists probe, analyze the tears
Of hysterical notions, phobias, fears

While priests take confession
In a serious session
And people struggle
In the hustle and bustle
In the noise and din
On the meaning of sin
We’ll touch the stars, embrace the moon
Break the barrier, arrive there soon
Ride the rainbow, the cloud, the storm
Flying in the wind, changing our form

Children of the world, we’ll do it
With song and dance and innocent bliss
The soft caress of a loving kiss
We’ll do it.

Children Of Innocence

Child of innocence, I miss your sunny days
We joyously frolicked in extended plays
Ever since you’ve left the scene
The streets are lonely, dark, and mean

Child of innocence, return to me now
With your simple smile show them how
This world once again can respond to your glance
And heartbeats flutter to the rhythm of your dance

Child of innocence, your elegance, your beauty
Beckons me now beyond the call of duty
Come fly with me far and above
Over the mountains in the land of love

Child of innocence, messenger of joy
You’ve touched my heart without a ploy
My soul is ablaze with a flagrant fire
To change this world is my deepest desire.

Magical child – Part 1

Once there was a child and he was free
Deep inside he felt the laughter
The mirth and play of nature’s glee
He was not troubled by thoughts of hereafter
Beauty, love was all he’d see

He knew his power was the power of God
He was so sure, they considered him odd
This power of innocence, of compassion, of light
Threatened the priests and created a fright
In endless ways they sought to dismantle
This mysterious force which they could not handle

In endless ways they tried to destroy
His simple trust, his boundless joy
His invincible armor was a shield of bliss
Nothing could touch it, no venom, no hiss
The child remained in a state of grace
He wasn’t confined in time or place
In Technicolor dreams, he frolicked and played
While acting his part, in Eternity he stayed

Soothsayers came and fortunes were told
Some were vehement, others were bold
In denouncing this child, this perplexing creature
With the rest of the world he shared no feature
Is he real? He is so strange
His unpredictable nature knows no range
He puzzles us so, is he straight?
What’s his destiny? What’s his fate?

And while they whispered and conspired
Through endless rumors to get him tired
To kill his wonder, trample him near
Burn his courage, fuel his fear
The child remained just simple, sincere

All he wanted was the mountain high
Color the clouds, paint the sky
Beyond these boundaries, he wanted to fly
In nature’s scheme, never to die

Don’t stop this child, he’s the father of man
Don’t cross his way, he’s part of the plan
I am that child, but so are you
You’ve just forgotten, just lost the clue

Inside your heart sits a Seer
Between his thoughts, he can hear
A melody simple but wondrously clear
The music of life, so precious, so dear

If you could for one moment know
This spark of creation, this exquisite glow
You would come and dance with me
Kindle this fire so we could see
All the children of the Earth
Weave their magic and give new birth
To a world of freedom with no pain
A world of joy, much more sane

Deep inside, you know it’s true
Just find that child, it’s hiding in you.

Magical Child – Part 2

Magical child once felt a twinge
A faint recollection, a memory unhinged
In the colors, the forms, the hue
There seemed a mystery with a subtle clue
Behind the wind, the storm, the gale
Within the shroud, beyond the veil
Hidden from view in a wondrous pattern
There seemed a force that he could not fathom
Its music and cadence were playful and sweet
He danced in bliss to its throbbing beat
He did not mind either cold or heat
On the mountain high was his royal seat

Strangers came and scorned his joy
With ridicule and banter they tried to destroy
What in their minds was a skillful play
With cruel darts they tried to plunder
To suffocate and strangle his innocent wonder
Fighting hard, despite their blunder
Again and again to steal his thunder
Despite their attacks, they could not break
With all their barbs they could not take
God’s gift of love, which they could not fake
Not knowing his strength or what he sought to seek
They complained aloud and called him a freak

But the mysterious force just kept its hold
Magical child grew brave and bold
Diving deep into his soul
In exquisite ecstasy he discovered his role
In his Self was infinite scope
This mysterious force was mankind’s hope
Piercing through that mask of Being
In that silence beyond all seeing
Was a field with a different story
A field of power, of awesome glory
With other children, if unfurled
Its tidal wave would change the world

Magical child was ready to bow
Sow the seed, pick up the plough
With effortless ease, without a sigh
Without a tear, without a cry
With silent perfection
Under God’s direction
To sing together as one race
Stem the tide, transform this place

Magical children, don’t worry how
Don’t delay, this moment’s now.


Once We Were There

Before the beginning, before the violence
Before the anguish of the broken silence
A thousand longings, never uttered
Pangs of sorrow, brutally smothered

But I have chosen to break and be free
Cut those ties, so I can see
Those bonds that imprisoned me in memories of pain
Those judgments, interpretations that cluttered my brain

Those festering wounds that lingered have gone
In their place a new life has dawned
That lonely child, still clutching his toy
Has made his peace, discovered his joy

Where time is not, immortality’s clear
Where love abounds, there is no fear
The child has grown to weave his magic
Left behind, his life of sorrow, once so tragic

He is now, ready to share
Ready to love, ready to care
Unfold his heart, with nothing to spare
Join him now, if you dare.

Planet Earth

Planet Earth, my home, my place
A capricious anomaly in the sea of space
Planet Earth, are you just
Floating by, a cloud of dust
A minor globe, about to bust
A piece of metal bound to rust
A speck of matter in a mindless void
A lonely spaceship, a large asteroid

Cold as a rock without a hue
Held together with a bit of glue
Something tells me this isn’t true
You are my sweetheart, soft and blue
Do you care, have you a part
In the deepest emotions of my own heart
Tender with breezes, caressing and whole
Alive with music, haunting my soul.

In my veins I’ve felt the mystery
Of corridors of time, books of history
Life songs of ages throbbing in my blood
Have danced the rhythm of the tide and flood
Your misty clouds, your electric storm

Were turbulent tempests in my own form
I’ve licked the salt, the bitter, the sweet
Of every encounter, of passion, of heat
Your riotous color, your fragrance, your taste
Have thrilled my senses beyond all haste
In your beauty I’ve known the how
Of timeless bliss, this moment of now.

Planet Earth, are you just
Floating by, a cloud of dust
A minor globe, about to bust
A piece of metal bound to rust
A speck of matter in a mindless void
A lonely spaceship, a large asteroid

Cold as a rock without a hue
Held together with a bit of glue
Something tells me this isn’t true
You are my sweetheart, soft and blue
Do you care, have you a part
In the deepest emotions of my own heart
Tender with breezes, caressing and whole
Alive with music, haunting my soul.

Planet Earth, gentle and blue
With all my heart, I love you.

When Babies Smile

When dreamers dream and kiss their lover
And rainbows weave and splash their color
Those are moments so gloriously alive
We take the plunge, take the dive
Into the abyss
We are suspended awhile
Those are moments when babies smile.

Those are moments when fate is unsealed
Nothing is impossible and we are healed
We can soar, we can fly
Walk on fire, navigate the sky
In the light of a glittering star
There’s no distance, nothing is far
Those are moments of innocent guile
In the glow
We are suspended awhile
Those are moments when babies smile.

Those are moments when the heart is tender
When seascapes gleam in magnificent splendor
When the laughter of Heaven reverberates the Earth
And we are renewed in a new birth
In a timeless Eternity
In the angels’ fraternity
We romp and roll
The playground of our soul
In the twilight
We are suspended awhile
Those are moments when babies smile.

Those are moments we’re one with God
All is well, nothing is odd
In silent reflection
We feel our perfection
We are the source, we are the crucible
Nothing can hurt us, for we are invincible
There is no sin, there is no sinner
We can only win, we have felt the glimmer
In the bliss
We’re floating awhile
Those are moments when babies smile.

Kingdoms topple, lose their class
Civilizations crumble, ages pass
Turbulent tempests ravage the seas
Violent killings, despite our pleas
But dewdrops sparkle when children play
Tyrants cry, there’s nothing to slay
Fairies dance and goblins sing
All are crowned, all are king
In the Garden
We frolic awhile
Those are moments when babies smile.

Ryan White

Ryan White, symbol of justice
Or child of innocence, messenger of love
Where are you now, where have you gone?

Ryan White, I miss your sunny days
We carelessly frolicked in extended plays

I miss you, Ryan White
I miss your smile, innocent and bright
I miss your glory, I miss your light

Ryan White, symbol of contradiction
Child of irony, or child of fiction?

I think of your shattered life
Of your struggle, of your strife

While ladies dance in the moonlit night
Champagne parties on chartered cruises
I see your wasted form, your ghostly sight
I feel your festering wounds, your battered bruises

Ryan White, symbol of agony and pain
Of ignorant fear gone insane
In a hysterical society
With free-floating anxiety
And feigned piety
I miss you, Ryan White
You showed us how to stand and fight
In the rain you were a cloudburst of joy
The sparkle of hope in every girl and boy

In the depths of your anguished sorrow
Was the dream of another tomorrow.

The Elusive Shadow

Even though I traveled far
The door to my soul stayed ajar
In the agony of mortal fear
Your music I did not hear
Thru twisting roads in memory lane
I bore my cross in pain

It was a journey of madness
Of anguish born in sadness
I wandered high and low
Recoiled from every blow
Looking for that stolen nectar
In my heart that long-lost scepter
In all those haunted faces
I searched for my oasis

In a way it was in a drunken craze
A cruel hysteria, a blurry haze
Many a time I tried to break
This shadow following me I could not shake
Many a time in the noisy crowd
In the hustle and bustle of the din so loud
I peered behind to see its trace
I could not lose it in any place
It was only when I broke all ties
After the stillness of the shrieking cries

In the depths of those heaving sighs
The imagined sorrow of a thousand lies
I suddenly stared in your fiery eyes
All at once I found my goal
The elusive shadow was my soul

Mother

Eons of time I’ve been gestating
To take a form been hesitating
From the unmanifest this cosmic conception
On this earth a fantastic reception
And then one fateful August morn
From your being I was born
With tender love you nurtured a seed
To your own distress you paid no heed
Unmindful of any risk and danger
You decided upon this lonely stranger

Rainbows, clouds, the deep blue sky
Glittering birds that fly on high
Out of fragments you’ve made my whole
From the elements you fashioned my soul
Mother dear, you gave me life
Because of you, no struggle or strife
You gave me joy and position
Cared for me without condition
And if I ever change this world
It’s from the emotions you’ve unfurl’d
Your compassion is so sweet and dear
Your finest feelings I can hear
I can sense your faintest notion
The wondrous magic of your love potion

And now that I have come so far
Met with every king and czar
Encountered every color and creed
Of every passion, every greed
I go back to that starry night
With not a fear for muscle or might
You taught me how to stand and fight
For every single wrong and right
Every day without a hold
I will treasure what you’ve mold
I will remember every kiss
Your sweet words I’ll never miss
No matter where I go from here
You’re in my heart, my mother dear.

Ecstasy

I was born to never die
To live in bliss, to never cry
To speak the truth and never lie
To share my love without a sigh
To stretch my arms without a tie
This is my dance, this is my high
It’s not a secret, can’t you see
Why can’t we all live in ecstasy

Ecstasy Ecstasy
Why can’t we all
Live in Ecstasy.

Without a guilt, without regret
I am here to forget
Tainted memories of imagined sin
In every friend, kith and kin

We have come to celebrate here
The getting rid of every fear
Of every notion, every seed
Of any separation, caste, or creed.

This alienation, fragmentation, abomination
Of separation, exploitation, isolation
This cruelty, hysteria, absolute madness
This anger, anxiety, overflowing sadness
Disrupted ecology, wanton destruction
Diseased biology, nature’s obstruction
Endangered species, environmental pollution
Holes in the ozone, defying solution
Is not knowing the spark that lights my interior
Is the same fire, glowing in every man, child, and mother superior

We have come to celebrate here
The getting rid of every fear
Of every notion, every seed
Of any separation, caste, or creed.

Feeling free, let us fly
Into the boundless, beyond the sky
For we were born to never die
To live in bliss, to never cry
To speak the truth and never lie
To share our love without a sign
To stretch our arms without a tie

This is our dance, this is our high
It’s not a secret, can’t you see
Why can’t we all live in ecstasy

Ecstasy Ecstasy
Why can’t we all
Live in Ecstasy.

Quantum Leap

I looked for you in hill and dale
I sought for you beyond the pale
I searched for you in every nook and cranny
My probing was at times uncanny
But everywhere I looked I found
I was just going round and round
In every storm, in every gale
I could hear your silent tale

You appeared wherever I went
In every taste, in every scent
I thought I was in a trance
In every quiver I felt your dance
In every sight I saw your glance
You were there, as if by chance

Even so, I have faltered
Despite the fact, my life has altered
All my doubts were struggles in vain
Of judgments made in memories of pain
Only now, by letting go
I can bask in your glow
No matter where I stray or flow
I see the splendor of your show
In every drama I am the actor
In every experience the timeless factor

In every dealing, every deed
You are there, as the seed
I know now, for I have seen
What could have happened could have been
There is no need to try so hard
For in your sleeve you hold the card
For every fortune, every fame
The Kingdom’s here for us to claim
In every fire, every hearth
There’s a spark gives new birth

To all those songs never sung
All those longings in hearts still young
Beyond all hearing, beyond all seeing
In the core of your Being
Is a field that spans infinity
Unbounded pure is the embryo of divinity
If we could for one moment BE
In an instant we would see
A world where no one has suffered or toiled
Of pristine beauty never soiled
Of sparkling waters, singing skies
Of hills and valleys where no one dies

That enchanted garden, that wondrous place
Where we once frolicked in times of grace
In ourselves a little deep
In that junkyard in that heap
Beneath that mound of guilt and sorrow
Is the splendor of another tomorrow
If you still have promises to keep
Just take that plunge, take that leap.

Breaking Free

All this hysteria, all this commotion
Time, space, energy are just a notion
What we have conceptualized we have created
All those loved, all those hated

Where is the beginning, where’s the end
Time’s arrow, so difficult to bend
Those broken promises, what they meant
Those love letters, never sent

Heaven Is Here

You and I were never separate
It’s just an illusion
Wrought by the magical lens of
Perception

There is only one Wholeness
Only one Mind
We are like ripples
In the vast Ocean of Consciousness

Come, let us dance
The Dance of Creation
Let us celebrate
The Joy of Life

The birds, the bees
The infinite galaxies
Rivers, Mountains
Clouds and Valleys
Are all a pulsating pattern
Living, breathing
Alive with cosmic energy

Full of Life, of Joy
This Universe of Mine
Don’t be afraid

To know who you are
You are much more
Than you ever imagined

You are the Sun
You are the Moon
You are the wildflower in bloom
You are the Life-throb
That pulsates, dances
From a speck of dust
To the most distant star

And you and I
Were never separate
It’s just an illusion
Wrought by the magical lens of
Perception

Let us celebrate
The Joy of Life
Let us dance
The Dance of Creation

Curving back within ourselves
We create
Again and again
Endless cycles come and go
We rejoice
In the infinitude of Time

There never was a time
When I was not
Or you were not
There never will be a time
When we will cease to be

Infinite — Unbounded
In the Ocean of Consciousness
We are like ripples
In the Sea of Bliss

You and I were never separate
It’s just an illusion
Wrought by the magical lens of
Perception

Heaven is Here
Right now is the moment
of Eternity
Don’t fool yourself
Reclaim your Bliss

Once you were lost
But now you’re home
In a nonlocal Universe
There is nowhere to go From Here to Here
Is the Unbounded
Ocean of Consciousness
We are like ripples
In the Sea of Bliss

Come, let us dance
The Dance of Creation
Let us celebrate
The Joy of Life

And You and I were never separate
It’s just an illusion
Wrought by the magical lens of
Perception

Heaven is Here
Right now, this moment of Eternity
Don’t fool yourself
Reclaim your Bliss


>>> Dancing the Dream (1992) – REFLECTIONS

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