Light on the Page

The image of an eagle bearing a crown represents a high spiritual being bestowing the means to enter the kingdom of heaven. The crown may rest on or above the human head. Then it becomes a gate into the heavenly world. At the same time something equally or even more important happens. The need awakens to carry the spiritual light down into earth. The gate opens both ways.

The gift of bringing the light in this way is a sensitive one. Although it always makes the earth firmer and clearer, it requires an array of disguises and different voices to make itself known. The human ear is tuned to hear in a multitude of ways. A conversation rather than a shout, a touch of hands, a silencing of fear.

The eagle’s eye will find the grain of gold and place it where it is most needed. Although the darkness of earth may seem overwhelming at times, that speck of light will be visible to people from different sides, who will see it in their own way. Though my tones may be those that only a quiet ear can hear, yet I’ll disperse the dark and make a vow to ease the burden of a thousand year.

A Touch of Hands

Now heaven’s gate walks with me where I walk,

and firmer treads the dull earth and the sand.

It opens through the policy of talk,

and leaves an easy light upon the land.

In various disguises it sets out,

and voices what the ear is tuned to hear.

A conversation rather than a shout,

a touch of hands, a silencing of fear.

Spark

A coronet of gold in eagle’s claws

becomes my crown and entrance to the light.

But written in it are eternal laws

which like the sun’s penumbra fall to sight.

I’m chosen to convey this light to earth,

extend its luminescence through the dark.

No value in a gold kept for its worth,

when heaven’s gift may fly up in a spark.

A Thousand Year

Though in a thousand year the dark may grow,

the eagle’s eye will find a grain of light,

and placing it where people come and go

will draw the curtain back from darkest night.

So if I will come from the shadows now

and speak in tones a quiet ear may hear,

yet I’ll disperse the dark and make a vow

to ease the burden of a thousand year.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.

My outer self is a face or a costume. I can wear it, it wrinkles, it takes shape according to my pains and joys. I can only begin to hear and feel the presence inside that never changes, that stays and endures. As I stand beside the fountain of my inner being and listen to the trickle of the water, I seem to know the brighter star inside me, that will not fade.

I’ve lost and I will lose again. Earth takes to itself what belongs to earth. The face, the costume, the fields that once were bright with gold, will lose their smoothness, their burnish. There is no weight to the gold inside. What I loved I will love again because it’s made of what I am made of. The gold heaped up inside is light as air.

Semblance

My outer semblance ages, withers, dies,

the noble being within will never fade.

The sun grows red and deepens in the skies,

the brighter star inside requires no shade.

No soul on earth may see its face alive,

but after death will take its light to heart.

Or in the darkest night may still connive,

to live forever, never to depart.

Undivided

The gold heaped up inside is light as air,

the brown earth holds me only while it can.

The stubble fields were burnished once and fair,

the midnight sun within me makes the span.

Not everything can hold its course in time,

but lets the weight of nature have its way,

the gold of earth in earth will have its rhyme,

the undivided light inside will stay.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.

The relationship of waking to sleeping is characterized by light. The blessing of darkness is that it carries light into the deepest part of our being. We enter the light together and know each other intimately while we are there. Outwardly we are enshrouded in the darkness of night.

The angel-being within us travels across the farthest reaches of time and space, the darkest abyss, to fill our hearts and hands with love. In time he wants his song to come from our lips. He wants to waken with you – he wants you to let him take your side.

The path I take through life is not the one I think, the one which appears in the ordinary light of day. The real path is lit by the angel-being. It has within it the distance he has travelled. It has the light we’ve shared together when darkness enshrouds us. This angel-being was there from first to last, he’ll be there when the round world’s fully passed.

Angel

The angel-being has swept the wide abyss

and scaled the flights of time to sing this day.

His heart is mine, his wings enfold my hands,

and his song, if I will, comes from my lips

Will you let him take your side in the world?

Will you let him waken the day with you?

Steps

This angel-being brings more light on the path.

How can my steps be faltering or blind,

how can I doubt my way or pull up short?

The music of his wings enfolds my heart,

the love within his eyes shines out of mine.

The ground grows bright again beneath my feet,

and when I wake this day he wakes in me.

Passed

I’m with him while the world turns halfway round,

then see the sun’s light tinge his wings again.

He’s with me when I wake and feel the ground,

he spares no pains to light the page and pen.

This angel-being was there from first to last,

he’ll be there when the round world’s fully passed.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

 © landar 2010. All rights reserved.

The angel-being inside us is the genius who mixes the colors of our life and paints. We see this being as the dancing light behind the canvas. But this being wants to dance right into our fingertips and paint through our hands. The daylight self works, and achieves, with the colors. Our night-time soul is unfettered and limitless, breathing out again into the cosmos of light, to be united with that angel-being.

On wings of light he brings the choices and decisions of each day. I can feel those wings on my fingertips, in my thoughts, in the least transaction of life. And then a face rises before me which I’ve known all my life, before and after life, since time began. Whatever shapes I’ve taken, whatever colors I’ve been, this is the face of the being who made me whole. However many times my self is painted into the world, in picking up the brush myself I am the master who painted me.

Stay

So when I embrace life in its wholeness

I find a canvas shot with colors through

and like a shade behind each one I see

The dancing light which pulled it into view.

And though I love the colors through the day,

by night it’s with the light I’d choose to stay.

Colors

Life is a journey through colors which once

were distilled out of light. I am the light

which pressed them into being and mixed their hues.

I love the least transaction of this life,

a handling of colors mixed by light

which over and over paint me a face

I knew before the world and time began.

Paint

But then I’m painted time and time again,

the image of a being who made me whole

and wanted me to see his face in mine.

He reaches down into my fingertips,

picks up the brush and tells me to begin -

new worlds unfold before me, stored in time,

whole canvasses I’ve worked on, put aside,

so I may paint the face who painted me.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010

The moral right of the author has been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this website may be reproduced without the prior permission of the author.

To Walk With You

In the first light of the morning you come,

soft as the air, bright as the sun, and clear

as a waking dream into my new day.

And as the stars love the night into gold,

and as the spring feels the flowers from the ground,

so I call my life back into being,

to walk with you and clasp your hand in mine.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010

The moral right of the author has been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this website may be reproduced without the prior permission of the author.