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I Am
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
That which refreshes my soul.
That which renews my life.
That which gives life meaning.
That which gives purpose to existence.
That which gives center, balance,
Quietly directing our pathways.
That which our consciousness innately
Understands is right or wrong.
That which is beautiful from any angle,
In any light, from any distance.
That which cannot be changed, disfigured,
Or transformed into anything but beautiful.
That which is true to life forever.
That which lives in truth throughout eternity.
That which brings peaceful serenity
As it strips away falsehoods by knowledge.
That which makes the unique, alone,
Thrills us, yet challenges us onward.
That in us which cannot be denied
But accepted and exalted in reverence.
The I AM of the Universe, Father of Lights,
The Alpha and Omega, first and last,
Which lived, died, yet lives again forevermore.
That is what we recognize in ourselves! HIM!
Glorify His Name in all places, at all times
That your days may be long, your peace steady.
Praise Him in all things, for all blessings.
Place your feet upon the path and follow HIM!
Seek
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Seek not for that which is not,
Nor ever was.
Follow not after lies
Or man-made cause.
Seek out truth and
“Peace be still.”
Let your heart and soul
Be filled.
Seek for that which was
And still is.
Love and Life —
Both are His.
More precious than the Rubaiyat
of Omar Khayyam.
Seek and find the one
And only true “I AM.”
Retreat
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Rock-covered water,
Cold, chuckling creek
Splashes, tumbles happily,
Almost lulls me to sleep.
Reclining on green grass,
Warm sun on my face,
Nature working magic
Hectic schedules to erase.
Beauty surrounds me —
All surely heaven sent.
Pine-laden air,
Spruce trees generously lent.
Mind relaxed,
Mountains seem to tower.
Each minute thus spent
Prolongs life by an hour.
Red-tailed hawk above
Surveys this lovely span.
Makes one glad to be alive,
Glad to be a man.
I’ll think with sympathy
Of those left far behind,
Facing traffic snarls,
Smog, or waiting in a line.
But, then, they may like neon lights,
Consider it great fun.
I’ll give them a thought anyway
As I soak up the sun.
Dreamwalk
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Softly, I’m borne away on quiet, muffled wings
Of a beautiful butterfly which only I am privileged to see.
Gorgeous multicolored wings gracefully lift me like a feather,
Bringing my spirit to that very special sanctuary
Which is filled with rainbows, solitude and, of course, dreams.
Here in this special place,
My imagination paints only with soft colors.
Each tree, shrub, vine or plant produces fruits
And flowers in the seasons of my dreams.
Birds of every species and color grace tree and shrub.
They dart here and there, affording hours of pleasure to the eye.
The soft, sweet music of their song carried on the fragrant air
Brings solace to the inner soul.
The heart is light, dancing from sheer exuberance!
Here in my special place, fish bite when fished for,
And grain or fruit grows in abundance when seeds are planted.
Rushing or hurry are strictly forbidden,
And time stands still on command.
Dreams occur in Technicolor, and fantasies are commonplace.
My unfettered imagination is in complete control,
Able to travel into open and distant space instantly.
In my mind, I can visit any continent, country, city or place
At a snap of my fingers.
Here, any desire can achieve satisfaction
As soon as it’s realized and identified,
Without worry, pain or regret.
Should none of my earthly desires satisfy,
Then my inner spirit can be nourished
Through simple, quiet, relaxing thought patterns.
Peaceful, serenity reigns in assurance that all is well
And under complete control of my consciousness.
Tranquillity
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Under stout arms of ancient beech,
Beside placid, looking-glass pool,
Lessons that only nature can teach
In the amphitheater of her school.
Ripples run out from cast-in stone,
Obstructed, lapse into still serenity.
‘Tis music on the ear as lesson travels home.
We find peace, balance, and complete tranquillity.
Prime Time
This poem is from Autumn Leaves:
Does watching a clear, fast mountain stream
While inhaling sweet, spruce-laden air
Or enjoying quiet serenity of beautiful aspens,
Gazing up at rough-cut grandeur of towering mountains
Cast a therapeutic spell?
The answer is freely available to anyone
Willing to venture out and sample
This boundless treasure.
Worries flow away merrily with the water’s rush.
Troubles vanish like smoke
In the crisp, cool air
Which teases the mountaintops.
Thoughts are free to wander aimlessly
While consuming enormous quantities
Of rich subject matter.
An all-elusive peace enters the dark,
Twisted inner recesses of the subconscious,
Bringing with it freshness and light.
Wild creatures scurry and flit about unconcerned,
As nature spins and weaves,
Displaying her enchanted magic.
An unspeakable sense of joy and well-being prevails,
Engulfing mere mortals,
Sealing the lips to silence,
For to speak might shatter the beautiful, fragile spell.
wfosterwelborn 