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The sun shone in through the window that day;
A dandelion was then a flower;
My mother stood by the windowsill;
As I observed her like a magnificent tower;
There she was singing and the sun was shining;
Through the window and onto her hair;
She stood there in her plain printed dress;
She was the lady so fair;
I sat on my chair at the kitchen table;
Birds could be heard singing outside;
The world was funny-like a big cartoon;
As I grinned there with eyes opened wide;
Then mother motioned-I could go on the lawn;
Out the door I ran lickety split;
I was happy go lucky out on the sidewalk;
I was not necessarily endowed with much wit;
Where could I go-what could I do;
Boredom began to set in;
My venture took me to the backyard;
I was full of mischief and sin;
Curiosity took me to some rocks;
Where I observed some ants in their plight;
Occasionally I would look up to the sky;
And see all kinds of birds in their flight;
Nobody out and about in their yards;
I began to look for a prize;
To take to my mother as a humble gift;
Just to see that look in her eyes;
But wait! There's a sound coming from the fence;
Dare I venture to see;
Yes-its one of those baby sparrows;
Who has been put there just for me;
I paid no attention to another bird;
Who seemed to be making a racket nearby;
The little sparrow seemed so excited;
But I never questioned why;
In my haste I placed the sparrow;
In the palm of my warm small palm;
I held it close and could feel its heart;
It beat so rapidly-afar from calm;
Up to the door of the house I ran;
Here was a gift fit for a queen;
No thought came from my own actions;
Of the sparrow separated from its ween;
I opened my palm to give mother my gift;
The sparrow not moving at all;
When I questioned why to my mother;
It was as though she put up a wall;
Why the bird is sleeping as she took it from me;
As she placed it on the kitchen table;
She wrapped it up in a paper towel;
And told me what she was able;
Later on she would let him go;
After he awoke from his sleep;
The sound from the other bird was close by the window;
A sorrowful song it did weep;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
From womb to tomb;
~
A convergence of two over a horizon;
One is entering into death;
Being taken and exasperated;
In its final breath;
Although an entrance makes its way;
In places where the exsistence of night and day;
A moot point to the creation of oneness:
~
Birth is at the expese of atoms in motion;
That envelop like an immense ocean;
Harmony unto variance in the cohesion;
Is the mix in the final adhesion;
There is a woe yet there is a mighty shout;
The center of the eyes that come into their own;
The positive against the negative forces;
Mighty winds that pull and moan;
The essence of time is against the lesser;
Witness unto the others doom;
Oneness has come at the others expense;
From the tomb unto womb;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
The Flower Dream Spiral is almost a forgotten thing;
I have gone beyond the colorless Tree of Life;
And passed through the Lake of Reflections;
The Temple of Shadoveh and even Tarrogen;
Have fled having seen the Smokeless Fire;
Although the notes of music in bliss are with me;
I am found wanton and fear is in the way;
Ocosomemuh and Yatoquemark have passed this purging;
And cannot pass through it again with me;
This is the merging point where I will be made;
Quigleanamos hovered near me but now he must flee;
He awaits me at the cornerposts of my columns;
Although I do adore this great hall;
I am now in the presence of the Roving Eye;
In the great hall of the Checkerboard of Fates;
And before me all awaits;
The place of creation amongst all the spheres;
I am trembling within but I have no tears;
The Roving Eye is yet turned away;
The process of assignments has been put into motion;
From suns to moons to stars to skies;
I am in likeness to an insignifigant plankton in the ocean;
The Smokeless Fire awaits the call;
They are the recording djin's with each record of fate;
I continue to tremble within this hall of the Mighty and of the Great;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
The Great Entrance to the Throne Room;
It is the Poly Tetragrammatron of the One and All;
There is much resistance before entering into this gate;
Without invitation it is an impenetrable wall;
All objects from wherever they may be;
This is the gateway in the heavens;
The diamond in the sky-like falling manna;
Rising above as it leavens;
It gives as well as it takes in perfect harmony;
The vagina of the universe;
From within and from without;
In foreward and out reverse;
It is the pause that is in between;
The likeness of an inhaled breath;
Holding-pressing for that brief moment;
The representation of both life and death;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
My sentinels are steadfast by my side;
They jealously protect me in the fiercest way;
Pure forms of inner energy;
Ready at my bidding to work if I will it;
To climb upon the highest peak;
Or to descend into the lowest pits;
To harken unto my call in the night;
My sweet Meshema will enter into the dream paths;
And walk with me;
Tahana will remain on the outer perimeter;
Seeing to it that none pass but such as are invited;
The walls are raised up and nothing shall break its bond;
I am in harmony with the spirits;
And I tread upon the paths that have been walked;
Since the beginning of time over an eternity ago;
Listening for the voices that walk in this forest;
The dream path is in the presence of a fog;
There are many layers to it as the path unfolds;
The way shall be made clear to those who wait;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
A collective power of the crystalline spheres;
On their way to the gathering place;
It somewhat ends as it all began;
Each one in their own individual race;
They are pulled like magnets to a source;
Something draws them like insects to the light;
The paths are clearly marked for all;
Every sphere of its kind must pass this way;
The glacial striations of the crystal lattice;
Pathways filled with their bodies all day;
They are like plankton in the seas;
Of varying degrees;
Their collective power-amasses the great dower;
Soon the power of each one will grace a presence;
Already previously conceived to what is owed by all;
A melting pot awaits where there is no other;
Where they shall all meet in the great and mighty hall;
In its corridors-within its borders;
Are the age old answers to what has always been asked;
No answer has been revealed but to those who have yield;
Until now the concealed knowledge has remained masked;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
My love for him has always been there;
It was there from the time before I was born;
This carved face of stone is the place;
Where we both pledged our hearts to eachother;
That it would never flee from us;
Even in the galaxies that exsist;
Wherever one of us is so is the other;
Even death cannot stand in its way;
Look to any star and our love can be found;
Since all things are connected;
There is no way for it to escape into oblivion;
No obstacle can be placed in its path;
As all things are to one another;
An obstacle serves as a stepping stone;
To each of our hearts;
If it takes until the rebirth;
We will find our way back to eachother;
As it was in the beginning-so it will be in the end;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
Steps that lead to the blinding light;
I am in spirit and in flight;
To acsend the stairway that seems to lead;
Onward to something that I desperately need;
Rather than being at the very end;
It feels as if over a horizon that I must tend;
Into the Quasar without question;
As would an innocent lamb to its own ending;
Not a protest of any sort in knowing;
No sound is made to its lending;
Any sort of sacrifice that would be made;
For it has all been given and done before;
The steps become easier to climb;
To the unknown light that I adore;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
A gentle creature is in my hand;
He does not tremble upon my finger;
After he is gone I will remember;
The vision of him will continue to linger;
The recollection in autumn days;
Long after the expiration of his exsistence;
I will envision him sitting upon my hand;
Without the slightest resistance;
I am in wonder as he is of me;
The world around it will abound;
For all who care to see;
That there is love in the slightest thing;
Its not to be ignored;
A call into darkness is made for life;
For that which man implored;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
The horizon I had thought it to be;
The birth of the spheres that spans itself;
As far as the inner eye can see;
Forming into a cone pattern;
In preparation across an expanse;
It is awe in creation;
A mingling of the spherical romance;
Beyond the cone pattern are crystallines;
Quartz like fetuses suspended in time;
Spirals set forth towards the stars of the North;
Gradual in a steep climb;
Plumes of energy explode in grace;
Pieces transfixed upon stars and moons;
Outwardly in many directions;
Cosmic dust forming into dunes;
The Quasar light becomes minuscule;
Soon it becomes a slight point;
I shed my final ethereal cloak;
Allowing the motion within to anoint;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
