The Cleanliness is All

The cleanliness is all. In Hamlet, I know, it says “the readiness is all.” But readiness coupled with cleanliness seem to be the perfect combination to upstart one’s spiritual journey. It’s the new year, month 2 into it, and there’s this need to just flush everything that still remains of the last year or maybe the past. It now becomes more important than ever, to shed all that cocoon we’ve hidden ourselves in, because of an urging need to become like butterflies. To morph into the beings we need to be in order to take flight towards the path of a fantastic change. To not be attached because change is constant. And it is the cleanliness, the cleansing that we must participate in, whether physical, emotional or spiritual, which will open us to a new idea that has always been there in front of eyes which coincidentally happens to be the mirror to our truth.

i’ll sweep it all up,
what a mess i am inside
all the clutter, all that
remains of my past, in
between the crevices of
a wall i did not know i
built, but here they
are towering over me,
fencing me up without
sun to see into the day…
in your eyes where i see
more of myself than i do
before this mirror, this
false reflection of hope
i long to break, tear down,
and sweep away if it means
to gather forth the
universe into my heart

Inspire

All of these are metaphors, they are inspired by Him in hope to inspire change. The universe opens its heart when we open ours. People recognize this. It happens without us being aware of it, but they come closer and closer to help us realize the one true goal for a clean soul. I keep hearing this… the soul is clean, the soul is clean. To help contribute in the cleanliness of one’s soul. That this is all that really matters. For someone to see beyond the flesh, beyond who we are and what we really look like behind the rib cage in order to unveil our true selves… how much more brighter this world would be. These poems are metaphors, but I hope they inspire some small change towards a clean soul.

to form you as one
nearly
so far
the discretion of these flowers
merely sickens
my senses
each time I breathe in
absence and
phantoms,
ghosts that aren’t you;
though with each séance
I raise you as Lazarus
over and over
again and again
to belong to you once
more
break with death
to be reborn
inside Your brightest light

-mr gahon 9/27/13