On Still Being Here

I said all secrets shall be manifest
And that all hidden things shall be revealed.
Now those with eyes to see know this is so.

Realities of goodness show the truth,
Creative exploration bears new grace.
All secrets and all hidden things are known
When Abba's light can penetrate our face.

Our Abba is no hostile enemy,
Who sends the bolds of angry lightening down.
Abba is close as breath and whispered truth,
And Abba's goal is to bring faith to you.

Abba was once the secret I disclosed,
A presence of pure goodness, therefore scorned;
Cross nailed, entombed I was for saying so,
And yet I say it still for it is true.

Abba leaves us no hiding place from choice:
Repent, reject, recoil from all this show;
These spinning wheels of prideful sophistry
This glamor built on force of power and arms.

Submit instead to Abba deep within,
Imbibe the good news, aye imbibe and win.

But few submit and few believe today,
And as I look around I see the need.
The goodness Abba calls us to is weak,
I come to help you hear again and see.

Don't let the principalities hold sway
Don't let the time fulfilled go unfulfilled.
We are still here 'till we find Abba's way,
And light shines forth again upon the hill.

On Hearing and Seeing

So many hear, but do not understand.
So many see, but they do not perceive.

So many are wrapped up in cloaks of pride.
They think their education sets their worth.
Such valuation is a great mistake.
It bodes the end of homo sapiens.

Is anyone prepared to set a goal?
To stand upright for what is most hoped for?
There is still time, still soil to hold the seed.
But see: The curtain slowly falling down.
The time is coming. Chances will be gone.

Come, grasp the dancing energy within,
Before you perish and know only cold.
Beware the time to come if you should fail.

Tell me: Can you describe the end?
It means you only blink at life.
You cannot say what love is, what a star.
It means you are immune to all desire,
Immune to all but grim sonambulance.

It means the earth you see is very small.
It means that all you touch will shrink to naught.
It means you hop about like some strange bug
For whom the only comfort is ... comfort.

This comfort is the world's last tour de force.
All blinking souls will head for warmer climes.
And will have neighbors only of like mind.
In gated villages with managed care.

The greatest sin will be the loss of health.
It will be followed by lost peace of mind.
When death comes, poisons sweet to ease the end.
Sweet dreams, more poison and a painless close.

Our blinking friends will still do what's called work.
But work will be like music or like films.
Not harrowing, not boring, no demands.
No wearisome extremes. No rich. No poor.
Our friends will brook no physical duress.
They'll cede all governance to those called 'They'
And then complain if comfort is cut off.

No room at all for those who don't conform.
There is a madhouse for such malcontents.

So many hear, but do not understand.
So many see, but they do not perceive.

On The Still Small Voice

Abba holds each good dream in his hands,
And with a still small voice softly commands.
Come listen, and you'll find your victory,
The still small voice will guide your mind and hands.

Abba loves those who know they do not know.
Yet know enough to keep their light alive;
Abba loves those who claim this earth as home,
And need no far off star to to make things right.

Abba loves those who think to find their way,
And live in harmony within themselves;
Who say their no to culture's killing pace,
And live to share a more abundant wealth.

Some crush life from their puffed up podiums,
Surrounded by the falsest flattery.
The still small voice speaks softly from the deeps
Creating saving movement inwardly.

I love the ones who love this deeper way,
And think before they make a simple choice;
Who do not lose their minds in foolish play,
But instead listen to the still small voice.

I love the ones whose minds and hearts are fused,
Delighting in the flow of inner joys.
For from their very depths a firelight glows,
Ignited softly by the still small voice.

On Abba Within

I preach to you the God who is in you,
Who helps you overcome what holds you back.

I come to help you know Abba again.

Some poets and some prophets know the truth.
You see the magic in a knowing eye.
I preach the force that always is within.
I preach your holy will to overcome.

The One within is not the one who's called
To bless a battle, validate a hate.
Religion's gods are not the one I preach.
The One I preach no superstition finds.
No robbery of self-respect occurs.
I speak of Abba, ever-present now.
Power to be. Power to dream. Power to grow.

Religion's gods call us to ravage life,
To rape and pillage in their holy names:
To hate the earth and even life itself.

These gods, my friends, are dead. But Abba lives.
Abba will be always who Abba is:
The one who stands for life to be well lived,
The one who stands against idolatry.

To sin against religion's gods brings death,
But understand, religions' gods are dead.
Abba will not make you a penitent;
Or promise you some heavenly release.

Abba within is counselor and friend.
You will not have a need for mystery.
You won't give heart to war and recompense.
You will not sink into depths of self-hate.
You will not turn upon the the innocent,
Tear soul from body, tear body from soul.
Nor will you feed on fear 'till malice rules.

Understand: body and soul are one.
Division is your only enemy.
The overcoming self is Abba's aim.

I do not call you now to vain belief.
Or to behave like savage animals.
I do not call you to ways of abuse.

Abba removes resentment with one breath.
Abba is happiness. Abba is joy.
Abba is vision. Yes. Abba is love.
Abba is magnet to your highest self.

Reject religions of misplaced virtue.
Reject a justice that relies on death.
Reject a righteousness that rapes and kills.

Hold fast to Abba's living lightning force.
Stand fast in native free and holy power.

I know that some will view these thoughts with scorn,
Just as they will reject a loving word.
Me? I just nod and leave in silent thought,
My words only reach those with eyes to see.

On The Depths

I come to herald hope in deepest depths.
To fill with vision depths of emptiness --
To transform the effects prideful loss,
And anger coiled in insolent repose;
To turn the howls of placelessness and pain,
Into a song of freedom once again.

To break the bars of prisons bearing signs
Named poverty and greed and driven need,
Or charity debased as remedy.

I come to bring an end to all conflict;
For conflict is the challenge at the core.

I come to free all spirits to create,
In blissful freedom from against and for.

Divided depths retain a fearsome form:
Once legions, now young armies, schooled to die,
Around which coalesce most armaments,
Condoned with pride by most authorities.

The depths I seek are deep within each being;
Their canyons course through all communities.

I say that life and death need fight no more.
Protagonists? Antagonists? No more!

Abba is wholeness, justice, peace and love;
Abba is present within every depth --
As light and life and creativity.

It only takes having the eyes to see.

I sing the song of Abba everywhere,
And summon all to live in Abba's care.
Not as the enemies, but friends, of life,
I call on all to befriend Abba well.

And let no depth remain a source of fear.
For Abba ends every division there

There are too many elements of all,
For any single self to know it all;
To win the depths is to accept oneself,
Within the spectrum which is Abba's realm.

Transformed depths are the very fruit I bring,
And Abba's realm the very song I sing.