Poetry

Spiritual poems.

Fear on Cat’s Feet

By Fred Meyer / March 31, 2021

Fear on cat’s feet creeps into the heart And I become a mouse frozen before its bright golden eyes. The look is not malicious, though much too intent. Where will all this end up? Well, in death of course, the dustbin of all existence. The trick is not to exist, and it can be done,…

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When Everything Stops

By Fred Meyer / March 3, 2021

How about the stop Where the heart pounds and the breath alternates In a place that is always still: A pond that the wind never ruffles Where the fish move through the motionless And the dragonflies flit in precise increments Over a reflection without distortion. Space is always stopped; After all, where does it have…

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Nothing There

By Fred Meyer / February 25, 2021

What if you looked inside and there was nothing there, No one looking back when you stared, And when you scanned around your room it was mostly nothing too With some furniture to enhance the absence, And out the windows you saw trees, plants and grass Decorating a garden that now wavered a bit in…

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Advice

By Fred Meyer / January 8, 2021

From loving kindness and compassion, the nature of mind stripped of all obstacles, I tap with this finger without an owner, words to all those suffering in this Dark Age. No matter what your occupation or preoccupation, listen to these words from nothing that knows. This world you live in has never, doesn’t now, and…

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Tögal

By Fred Meyer / December 26, 2020

Tögal, the last of the last nonexistence Beyond the space of non self, past the space of an unreal world And beyond the endlessness of endless emptiness. When light leaves and the eyes flash in what is left The anchor of sight is pulled and the vessel of awareness drifts Into the fog of no…

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Enlightenment Came With The Rain

By Fred Meyer / September 21, 2020

Enlightenment Came With the Rain What I have always been, but never realized, came with the rain. The true nature streamed from the sky, From above, as blessings do. No cares now, only the rain pattering. What pleasure to be free of mind’s choices, To perceive without attachment. Without hoping for perfection or fearing its…

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