The Pasture

Beyond mind and words there is a pasture.
Spirit takes aim there, lets an arrow loose.

Pierced through the heart I stagger, then fall down.
After a season, all that remains in the tall green grasses:

a bleached skull leaking dark light, a random scattering
of immaculate bones, scoured smooth by the same force
that once adorned them in a suit of supple flesh.

They’ve achieved an elegant simplicity, no longer pining
to satisfy desire, nor regretful of what remains undone.

They’re stacked in a heap at the doorway of dusk,
the sole remains of a beautiful corpse, in the scheme of time
a mere wind-sifted shell, at last a crumbled smattering of dust.

Relaxing calmly now in the bliss of all rendered things,
they quietly blend with these words in the same way
starlight softly sifts through the infinite night —

not afraid, not afraid . . .
in their own way, brightly shining.




About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have a number of blog sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: Essays on the Conscious Process: Compiled Poetry and Prosetry: Verses and ramblings on life as it is: Verses and Variations on the Investigation of Mind Nature: Verses on the Play of Consciousness: Poetic Fiction, Fable, Fantabulation: Poems of the Mountain Hermit: Love Poems from The Book of Yes: Autobiographical Fragments, Memories, Stories, and Tall Tales: Ancient and modern spiritual texts, creatively refreshed: Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: Thank You!
This entry was posted in Mystic Poetry, Nonduality and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Pasture

  1. You are so beautiful, my Heart! Your words move me to the depths of my soul. Praise, praise, that’s all I want to do when it comes to you.

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