poem by Marguerite Holmes

      

Key to the Kingdom                        

 

There’s no time or space in Eternity, I’m told.

Yet wars have been fought for millennia over

The best way to get there – or not.

 

Do I want to go where there is No-Thing

 (because there is no “place”

              or space to put things)?

 

Do I want to go where there is

                             No beginning

                             Or end

But only one infinite Now where all just IS?

 

How will I know you, or me, or any-thing, in

The kingdom of No-Thing Land?

Do I want to be a No-Thing in No-Thing Land?

 

“Consider the possibility,” says my beating heart,

“That ALL is vibration right now and forever:

Quantum science pretty much shows that’s true.

 

“How glorious would be the Eternal Freedom to

Have as a playground ALL-THAT-IS with which to

Co-create with other vibrations a mutual desire?

 

“In fact, wise ones have said this is so since the first

Wise one spoke. Untapped talents of the human Soul

Live in the quantum kingdom of No-Thing Land.

 

And Soul is connected to this reality via the Heart.

Eternity comes to Earth when Mind serves Heart

And together they create Heaven on Earth.”

                                                  
                                                                            --Marguerite Holmes

Mary Liz

 

We are sad to learn of the death on December 30 of our friend and group member, Mary Liz Riddle.  Mary Liz is a recognized poet and practitioner of book art in the Northeast Kingdom.  

We will miss her.

Laying My Brother To Rest

My brother died again today,

as he did yesterday, and

as he will all over again tomorrow.

Will it forever and always be this way,

my brother dying daily?

Each day begins afresh in silence

like a grief aborning.

When I awake there he is waiting

for me to be up and about

the endless business of mourning.

I lay me down each night

only to find he's there before me

surrounded by echoes of his last words,

So much to do, so little time

Time to lay my brother to rest

in the convoluted warren of

our shared memories I alone

now carry for us both,

here on my side of the grave,

while a side there is.

my brother dying daily?

We thank Kathryn Kiker for sending this poem that she'd asked Mary Liz to send to her after hearing Mary Liz read it at one of our Wednesday Poets meetings.  Katheryn comments, "What caught my attention, to bring me to ask her to send it, was how she captured the relentlessness of death and mourning, how we wake to face it every day, at least for awhile, if not forever. "like a grief aborning" - have you ever heard it put so well?!