All posts by Gyandeva

Gyandeva is a seeker, pathological meditator, a veteran firefighter and rescue tech, a poet, a blogger (new site) & writer. More importantly, he is a father of three—meaning he is also a lecturer, teacher, chef, order taker, taxi driver, coach, mentor and aspirin addict—and has found applying spiritual practices to all aspects of life provides a vast amount of possibility and abundance. While not adhering to any one religion, his practice of spiritual expression has shown that there is a unity in all things (even religions) and that in that unity we can find that Oneness in ourselves even as we enjoy the individual expression of that unity we are. You can also connect with Gyandeva on Twitter and on Facebook. Give his blog a Facebook hug at Tom Grasso, Writer.

You’re Beautiful

From where I stand, 
You're beautiful,
Like in the way
The yellow poplars bloom,
Or the freshwater pearls shine in the early morning sun,
Or the goldenrod sway in the light spring breeze along a shimmering stream.

From where I sleep,
You're beautiful,
Like in the way
The blue moon lights your path,
Or the cardinals sing to announce your arrival,
Or the viceroys are born to dance about the fields where you play.

From where I am,
You're beautiful,
Please don't change a thing,
Live your life so beautifully,
Test your dreams by putting your toes lightly in the water,
Then jump, and let's swim in joy together,
And dance to the sound of the dulcimer.

Because...
You're beautiful...
Not out there like a star to be admired,
Or some flower to be picked,
But within me where you are, forever...
Where you are free to know...
You're beautiful.




I Heard You (A Poem)

I heard you angry,
I heard you sad,
I heard you curse me,
I heard you had.
I heard your promises,
I heard you sigh,
I heard the whispers,
I heard you lie.

In the moments,
We all despise,
We either drown,
Or we rise.
I heard you gasp,
The surface cracked,
But in the end,
The will had lacked.

So off we go,
To the great beyond,
The roughest seas,
In the smallest pond.
A rotted seed,
That cannot grow,
Will surely die,
In the summer snow.

I heard you say,
All wounds mend,
I heard you swear,
There'd be no end.
I heard your laughter,
The stories told,
I heard deceit,
The truth behold.

I heard you breathe,
The Sun did rise,
I heard you question,
Your own disguise.
I heard time stop,
In pools of blue,
Believe me dear,
I heard you.

photo by:

Tomorrow’s Destiny (A Poem)

Cradled there, parts denied,
Parts that fade as I have died,
The liar's echoes always rang,
From the window where I now hang...

Poisoned air, cannot breathe,
Lost in darkness as I grieve,
I try to play the part you crave,
As I lie in alone my own grave...

Summer came, winter soon,
An angel's shadow by the Moon,
I lie naked in the snow,
Wanting things you'll never know...

Finally done, the wounded numb,
Searching for the peace to come,
Will you live to rue or to rejoice,
That you failed to call, to hear my voice?

Sunny day, joyful room,
I'll be forgotten as flowers bloom,
Somewhat lost in my disguise,
Are my own forgotten, tearful eyes.

With some dismay, it's time to say,
Goodbye, I walk away,
Forget the song, the road too long,
I'm lost in what is right and wrong...

So take care, no need to stare,
I've found the thinnest, freshest air,
Tonight forever joined to me,
In tomorrow's destiny...

A Walk Through the Cemetery

I walked into a cemetery this morning. There, scattered about the balls of dandelion seeds and neatly trimmed grass, where the remnants of lives once lived and dreams once dreamt. I wondered about those dreams, and the loss that each of these names must have felt as those moments shattered like fragile glass. I wondered about the suffering and pain each must have felt in their life, and perhaps even in their death. I wondered about the moments when the tears of both laughter and remorse, of both happiness and sorrow, ran free down the faces of those of whom I now kept sacred company.

I see littered about me the names of husbands and wives laying in eternal togetherness. I see the names of  mothers and their sons, of fathers and their daughters. I see the dates marking the beginning and the end of what once was. I see the faded remnants of those who lived so long ago, and the deeply carved names etched in shiny stone of those who may have walked this ground not too long ago.

I wonder then when it will be my turn. What will my stone say? What name will be stamped next to my own, and what story will it tell? To whom will I lay next to, eternally embraced in our own, sleepy romance? The world is but a cruel place, and perhaps there will be peace when I am finally able to let everything be put to rest.

I have searched so long for some meaning in the journey between the dates that will be stamped upon my marker. A place like this seems like home. To the man who seems so found when he is lost, and so lost when he is found, there is no better place to realize the short time he has remaining. I wonder when the sound of the stones crunching beneath my feet will go silent, and when the morning Sun will shine beyond my ability to see it. I wonder when both night and day will look the same, and when the tears will fade to nothing but a distant memory, and I wonder if I will have nothing but dirt and worms by my side.

When it was time for me to go, I said a silent goodbye to my new teachers, to those who have come before me. I bend to touch the stone of one who was but a child. I am unsure if he is lucky or unfortunate, but I utter some quiet words of hope that he was somewhere in between. We are all, it seems, somewhere in between.

 

 

A Remembrance of Wonderful

Something wonderful has happened to me, and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it. I’ve asked the Universe countless times, and the only answers I receive are the only ones I seek.

She kisses me. Randomly at times, with purpose in others. The little shock waves that course through my body are like a powerful tide that has surfaced within me. There is an intention in this power, and I am reminded of something I was thought was only for others. I am reminded of a dream I once had during lonely nights, a vision I’d often see when I wondered what my purpose was. I am reminded of an indistinguishable song I’d often hear, and a rhythm I’d feel when the darkness enveloped even the sunniest moments of my life.

I live in the memories of her,  as the vision, the feeling, the dream. I bask in the glow of always knowing she existed, even when doubt covered my heart with emptiness. I exist in a remembrance of something wonderful, and now I exist in her arms as though I have never, ever, been anywhere else.

She takes my body in her arms, and I feel my soul begin to dance. She holds my face in her hands, looking at me with those beautiful, blue eyes and promises me forever. She takes my thoughts, my ideas, my vision and gives them such clarity that I can see things as I was seeing for the very first time.

She gives me her fears, her hopes, and her dreams. She tells me her deepest secrets, and stands tall with me when the strong winds come. She shields my eyes when the Sun is too bright, and lays her head on my shoulder when, somehow, she knows I need it there. She takes my arm in hers, and kisses my cheek, as if there was some way she knew that was exactly what I was hoping for.

Beyond love there is something else. Beyond our human frailties there is a power only we, as Two of One, as the soul’s mates, know. When two pieces of the same puzzle land mysteriously in the same place, and fit perfectly, we must honor that union. When something brings two hearts together, we must live for that beat lest we die in the silence.

To leave her is worse than an amputation, and to watch her go is like a piece of me is missing. We share a distance but a desire to see it close. We shed our tears in the spaces we share when we can, and we offer ourselves up to whatever power seems bent on bringing us together. I have never worshiped in such a place, but if this is heaven let me polish those pearly gates. I have found a paradise in her, and will not stop until I’ve built one for us to share.

In that church we will reside. Among the trees, climbing hills and shaking the dust off our feet we will remember our divinity. One day in some future time and place, we will look into each other’s eyes, hold each other’s hands, and we will share a memory. A tear or two may spill from our eyes as we gaze silently into the souls we once could only dream about. A silent whisper may form from our lips as struggle to find the words. Then there will be a kiss. There will always be a kiss.

I will, then, stare into her beautiful blue eyes, those very eyes that captured me so long ago. The wrinkles we have gained over the years will be unnoticeable, yet the memories we have created will never fade. We will embrace, and I will be filled with the memory of our first touch, our first kiss, and the first time she held my hand. Gone will be the disappointments of this world, and alive will spring that moment of truth when we offered a promise made and a lived promise kept. We will live the vow we swore first with silence, then with a phrase, and then a life devoted to love, truth and the devotion very few ever get a chance to live.

We will share a remembrance of something wonderful, a remembrance that began with two souls colliding and eternally continued in a story of love.  We will just lay here, together, living by our own rules, and paying no attention what we hear around us.

I love her. She loves me. What a time of something wonderful we share.

Pools of Blue

In the early morning Sun I see,
Pools of blue awaken me,
Connected, depth, the soul within,
Awakened man is lost therein.

Time denied, but there is life,
Perhaps not time to be my wife,
Yet lovers bloom in time and space,
In their love there is no disgrace.

Faith we had we must renew,
For beyond the sultry pools of blue,
A heart does beat, a mind does fear,
A promise made within a tear.

See the man, his woman held,
See the woman, her man beheld,
And in the end he always knew,
The end he found in pools of blue.

photo by:

The Honor of Nearly Drowning

From the depths you rise, unsure if you’ll make it to the surface. You want to trust that there is breath above the waves, and you struggle against the current for your survival.

If you could only reach the light, take that single breath…

Sometimes you need to lose your breath in order to take another. Sometimes you need to struggle in order to crack the surface wide open. Sometimes, you simply need to go numb to realize what you are feeling.

There are moments when we falter, when we lose our sense of direction and get sucked in by the riptides pulling us to a vast unknown. Fighting the current is exhausting, and spells certain death in the dark depths you are resisting. Sometimes you just need to relax, and let the current take you to wherever you are meant to go. Such trust is hard, but will set you free to find places you would otherwise never see.

In the throes of your despair, take note. There is great wisdom in that darkness, and like some great teacher your own shadows will guide you to the truth. You will find clarity born in your clouded mind, and when you are struggling for air you will feel the truth begin to course through your body. The voices will silence, the shadows fade, and what you will be left with is all you’ve ever needed to know.

Trust that. Don’t ignore it, and be guided toward the purpose for which you were taken, and tossed, and finally discarded upon the shore. Stand, inhale, then create those wonderful footprints you were destined to create. Do not pause and give the voices an audience, and do not pay attention to the shadows pointing in the direction of the depths. Head, instead, for the rising Sun.

Sometimes nearly dying is the greatest source of survival. Sometimes when you have to face your inevitability you gain a strength for which there is no equal. Sometimes when you see the pathetic parts of your own reflection a truth will announce itself in the sobs of your discovery.  You will always find yourself first in the honor of nearly drowning.  You will always be blessed with truth in the lies you hear in the darkness. You will always find discovery in the throes of being helplessly lost. Just be patient, and it will come.

From there, you discover your authority, your vulnerability, your power. You no longer walk a victim of the tide, you control each place your footprints are born, and you stand tall against the raging sea no matter what the waves will bring.  You’ll know your steadiness against the wind, even when you feel as though you can stand no more. You’ll not find sorrow in the stumbles, nor failure in the falls. You’ll bleed. You’ll cry. You’ll survive.

One day, when the storms have mostly settled and the seas have mostly calmed, you’ll sit next to an angel. You’ll hear her song and feel her power and it will remind you of something. She’ll hold your heart, cradle your fears, and protect your entirety with the fierceness of a warrior. You’ll rise up in the memory of the storms you have survived. You’ll sink into an illusionary abyss. You’ll fight her as the imaginary water fills your chest. Until, she just looks at you…

…and holds you…

…and commands the waves and winds to subside.

Everything you ever avoided you will find within her eyes. Everything you ever ran from you will feel in the grasp of her hand. Then, you will feel how the strength empties from your veins at the thought of losing her. You’ll realize that any man standing by himself can be strong, but the real courage lies in surrendering to another who could destroy you in a whim. You find that when the idea of trust weakens your knees, she’s there to hold you steady. You discover the truest love you’ve ever known.

In the devotion that you give to her, in the reality where your entire being cradles her in love and safety, you’ll honor the moments when you nearly drowned. You’ll remember your chest straining in the absence of air, and the struggle of trying to maintain your consciousness as you headed toward something. You’ll relive the sighting of the surface, of the blinding light bouncing through the waves, and the moment your soul broke through the surface of nearly ending.

She was always there, waiting, breaking through those surfaces of her own, struggling for air in her own abyss. You will honor those moments she nearly drowned, too. When her knees grow weak in her own swirl of memories, you’ll hold her up and keep her steady. When she gasps for air in the throes of remembering, you’ll breathe life back into her. She is your angel, and you realize that you are hers as well.

From that moment forward there will never be a single set of footprints in the sands where you walk. There will never again be a lone set of ears hearing the morning songbirds sing. You’ll share the Sunrises and Sunsets that bring you both to tears, and you’ll find the firmest hand you’ve ever known holding on to yours.

Let those fears subside. Let them go. Let her take over, and she’ll give you all she is. Love her deeply, trust her implicitly, hold her for as long as she needs you to. Kiss her as the man you are, helpless in her arms and destined for her lips. Rise to meet her demons, and allow her to face yours. Give in, open up, cry on her shoulder and just love her forever.

That’s what I plan to do, for I have survived nearly drowning just to be her man. I’ll honor her by being so forever.

<3

 

A Tiny Spark of Love

There once was a little spark. It dared to be, without the need to fight for survival. It didn’t seek need to define itself, or seek approval outside of itself. It simply was.

The little spark did not ask for permission to exist, or look for rights or wrongs in the space where it existed. It was born in a certain kind of emptiness, in a relative darkness, and sought for nothing except itself. It lived as it was, and it chose itself over the way things always seemed to be. It paid no attention to the rules where it existed, it gave no honor to the darkness that tried to kill it. It lived for itself, and in its quest for life it gave all it was to the only thing it knew.

As itself, and in itself, that little spark turning nothing into something, and gave life where none existed. That single, tiny spark that dared to be, that single flicker of light that chose to illuminate the darkness, gave birth to an entire Universe.

That is where I find my love. In that certain kind of emptiness that came before her, in that relative darkness that was before she arrived, a tiny spark was born that now sets the night sky ablaze.  In each Sunrise, in each passing ray of light, I am reminded of her and the blessing of that tiny spark that changed everything.

It is more than love that lights our way. Sometimes it’s fate, or chance, or destiny. Sometimes the darkness gives us the ability to see the spark, and sometimes the spark returns us to our wonderful, morning light. There we can awaken, stretch our tired form, and find the day full of wonderful possibilities.

I love you…

 

To The One (Heading To the 5)

The early morning Sun gazes through my bedroom window, fighting off the spring clouds, and waking me from a deep, darkened sleep. I reach for you, feel the empty space, and breathe out loud a heavy breath.

I reach for my phone, my heart full of words I want to say. Through eyes half-blinded by the night I see the feelings form into words, my heart spilling out into a space we share, in the only way I can.

For now.

There are the words you’ve shared with me, the promises of tomorrow we give to one another in our long moments together. There are the pictures that mean so much to us, those intense dreams we share that few would understand. We understand them, we live them, and we need no vindication in their realization. We only need the truth, and we live it in our closest moments.

We’ve been one since before we admitted it, together before we stating our intentions. We’ve share a crazy type of togetherness, one afraid of itself at first, and one that initially saw the reasons why it shouldn’t be. We’ve danced in subtle gazes, in hidden interactions even as we basked in the glow of one another’s presence. We played in other gardens only to find that our separation was hopeless. One can’t mess with the Universe’s intentions. We can only surrender to our destiny.

You are my dream born into reality. I admit to frequent pinches of my skin to ensure I have not fallen into some deep dream, and that your arrival is as real as it seems. I stare at your image, lost in the rise of emotion within me, that rising tide I’ve experienced in the years we’ve waited for one another. I replay your words of devotion, of love, and melt in the reality of…

of…

you.

Suddenly tomorrow seems so bright as the two are made one, and the One heads to the Five. Suddenly the waters have calmed and become clear, and the mud has settled to provide us with a spring to quench our thirst. We are so close to that destiny, and the promise we made to each other even before we were born. A promise we reaffirm every day, in every breath, and in every moment we share our beating hearts. The promise we easily state to one another, and the promise we have made in our deepest sharings.

To the One, I say “I love you”. To the One, I offer my life, my heart, and my open soul. To the One I breathe for, to the One whose song I hear, to the One who I’ve given my all to, my love is eternal. To the One who is my dream and my reality, I offer every bit of who I am. It won’t be long now, when we honor the promise we have made to walk together through the day, lay together through the night, and honor each other through the eternity we have found.

For you, the muse of my living soul, I am devoted. It is you I have waited for, and it is you forever. Thank you for existing, and for loving me the same. To the Five we go, and there we will remain forever.

<3