The child in me wants to play
That is. . . enter in the game
But the locker room became my home
. . . A ghost without a name

Madness on the playing field
Far as the eye can see
An observer, reinforcing it?
. . . Spirit sidelines the likes of me?

Yet, through imbedded meanings
Empowerment I’ve gained
My poetry creates an echo
Spirit uses my right brain

Behind the scenes a hunger
To affect the world of thought
Not seeing the mechanics
It was Richard, David brought (*1)

From the submarine of Reality
Cruise the ocean full
Learning how to simply BE
Now my garden waste can cull

To reach beyond the given state
Non-resistant to the fore
A conduit becomes an echo
Life reveals so much more.

Footnotes:

(*1) My son-in-law David Taylor was in communication with someone on line
that had run across Richard Bartlett. David shared Richard’s work with
us. I went ahead and bought a couple sets of CDs that helped flesh out his
ideas.

8/23/15 (#2)
11:16 AM