Malevolence Concealed

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

Malevolence concealed in shadow waits
for optimal excuse to storm the gates
when every guardian of night has fled
and left no vestige of the light they shed
across the peaceful courtyard love creates.

A solitary candle flame abates
the siege as amity illuminates
the calculating coward that propels
malevolence concealed.

No other coalescence separates
abiding love from hate that cultivates
chaotic storms within the citadels
like unity of purpose that expels
unwanted dispositions and negates
malevolence concealed.

 

cc-by-nc-nd  Mary Boren, 2018

Public Domain Picture

 

Pilgrimage

light on hills
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” -Rumi

The hills are steep, the climbing’s hard.
If you would persevere, it
may leave the body deeply scarred
and dissipate the spirit.

But when you scale the furthest crest
and overlook the valley,
abrasions suffered on the quest
will yield a grand finale.

The gift of elevated sight
revealed as you continue
will radiate the path with light
that’s coming from within you.

 

cc-by-nc-nd  Mary Boren, 2018

 

Cleaning the Slate

cat in mirror

Before I face the coming year
in a flurry of resolutions,
I stand before my conscience here
in the middle of my ablutions.

Reflections of a scowling brow
when my patience was sorely tested
are splayed across the mirror now
in a mural of time arrested.

New promises are meaningless
on the altar of Good Intention
’til heaven’s finished cleaning this
with a powerful intervention.

 

cc-by-nc-nd  Mary Boren, 2012

Frosted Patterns

“In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown,
and in between, there are doors.” -William Blake

Frosted patterns on the glass
camouflage a portal frozen
on its hinges. Clustered mass
needn’t hide the path we’ve chosen.
Opening the inner eye,
focus on eternal matter
binding everything. Defy
powers of illusion — shatter
frosted patterns.

 

cc-by-nc-nd  Mary Boren, 2017

 

Leader

"Namaste" by Thom Ricks

If you can set your biases aside
to champion what’s compassionate and just,
and value every member of your tribe
as if you’d given birth to each of us;
awakening to true community,
not rushing into battle unprepared,
but seeking out a path to unity
when sleepers’ predatory fangs are bared,
and forging through the darkness to the source
of light, replenishing your spirit when
the mantle sags, thus modeling the course
of energy infused with wisdom, then…

I’ll follow you with every nerve and bone
to places I’m afraid to go alone.

 

cc-by-nc-nd  Mary Boren, 2017

Painting by Thom Ricks

On a Gusty Day in December

Atop a ladder, Jack, with hair askew
and frownful countenance, leaned in to fend
away resistance. Wrestling with the wind
to hang the Christmas baubles, temper too
acquired momentum. As his banner flew,
three letters pirouetted out to bend
around his backside, shining end to end.
A passer quipped, “Does JOY live there with you?”

I wonder, does it show that she has earned
a front-room space with me? A cozy bed
among the other beds, a comfy chair,
a plate — so little asked, so much returned.
In peaceful co-existence, Anger, Dread
and Sorrow hold their tongues when Joy is there.

 

cc-by-nc-nd Mary Boren, 2001

Aubade

sunrise tree

Close your eyes and feel the stillness,
stillness in the morning air.
Morning is for soft reflection —
light reflects without the glare.

In the glare of busy hours,
hours spent in toil and grind
grind to dust your mortal fullness,
fully binding bone and mind.

Mind the body. Sleep, awaken
through the wake of days before.
Soon, before today can claim you,
claim it for your heart and soar.

Soar above your active planning,
plans and thoughts aside, inhale
hailing blessings wrought in silence,
silently behind the veil.

Now, availed of inner hearing,
hear the robin, smell the rose.
Rise and face the day replenished.
Plenty clings to twilight’s close.

 

cc-by-nc-nd Mary Boren, 2011

Pride and Privilege

“Don’t tear that statue down! It represents
my heritage.” The Civil War still rages.
Although it ended, losers ever since
have sabotaged the bleak and bloody pages
of history. The altered facts we swallowed
have been exposed to light and judged a ruse
to whitewash the atrocities that followed.

The symbols we so carelessly confuse
with patriotic zeal across the board
from founding days are neither right nor good —
they’re remnants of a past to be abhorred
by those “endowed” with three-fifths personhood.

And liberty is just an empty word
until each citizen is seen and heard.

 

cc-by-nc-nd  Mary Boren, 2017

Photo source and more info on the history of confederate statues

Origin

William_Blake_Eve_Tempted_by_the_Serpent

Did Planet Earth evolve from random bits
of space debris intensively colliding
in willy-nilly fashion as befits
the current state of omnipresent fighting?

Does the existence here of you and me
derive from Capricana’s first manned landing?
A Legend of Creation holds the key
for those demanding doubtless understanding.

Before a single footprint punched the soil
foreshadowing humanity’s uniqueness,
a serpent was positioned to uncoil
the moment opportunity met weakness.

The Maker softly sighed and shook Her head,
“I wish I’d fashioned something else instead.”

 

cc-by-nc-nd  Mary Boren, 2017

Image Source

 

Selah

The day of your birth is a signal
to pause and reflect on the whys
of a love that parades in full color,
though it dresses sometimes in disguise.

We are bound by reciprocal blessing,
nonchalantly defying the odds
of a Gemini/Scorpio marriage
that survives undercover facades.

It goes deeper than quickening heartbeats
as our chemistry crackles the air,
past the pleasure of running my fingers
through your silvery, lush head of hair.

For through lessons of trial and error,
I’m convinced that I never could be
satisfied with a man whose behavior
was predictably pleasing to me.

I adore your inquisitive nature
and your staunch, unassailable pep
in the wake of the septic infection
that embezzled the spring from your step.

Standing tall as a dowager’s hero,
you are dauntless, determined, and dear
with a spirit of fierce independence
blooming heartily year after year.

Not to mention the fact your persona
is uniquely aware and alert
for a man who, on November Second,
is officially older than dirt!

Happy Birthday, Darlin’

11/2/17