My ego woke me up at five o’clock in the morning, fearful that everything I have done–my music, my writing–will perish.
When the person that was me dies,
everything will die with it.
That is probable.
But the questions that I sought the answers to have been answered.
I am not within time.
I am not captive within the confines of space.
I am space.
The limitations of the mind’s clock
will no longer be.
Yes, how like sleep my life was lived.
But I awakened before death.
No longer trapped.
I lived out my individual script
and played my part until I broke free from the conditioning.
I do know what and who I am.
That was the purpose for me being here.
That is the purpose for all of us being here.
All forms dissolve.
They are expressions of Consciousness.
I am Consciousness.
That is the “I”
Ye who come here;
As you peruse these pages,
view them as riding an Express Train through Time–
the same train we are all on.
When the train stops
and the Conductor turns around to tell you:
“This is where you get off”,
it doesn’t matter if you are riding first class or coach.
When your journey ends….
will you know who you truly are?
The pattern again.
As never before
I feel the threat of loneliness loom
and the lure of the sensual ephemeral pleasures
that may appease the shallow fragmented self
that seeks escape to numb the self
that clamors for truth.
Such a vacuum lingers.
Passionless. Without a country,
belonging nowhere and to nobody;
for attachment forms strings
that pull we puppets.
Have I been asleep for 20 years or merely in a stupor?
When I probe into my inner storehouse,
there is nothing but the echo of a confused cry
tethered within the cell of a false identity
reverberating against the musty darkness
Coming soon – The upcoming release of Ronaye’s book by British publisher in London, England; to be available on Amazon.
…with a broken wing
the Human Spirit
poems by Ronaye Hudyma
Whether contemporary, classic, or peppered with Elizabethan eloquence, this profound ensemble of 130 poems is not stationary. They move as if conducted with a maestro’s baton –fluid between the euphoria of life and love, the drama, the anguish of death and loss, with every nuance of human emotion spilling upon the pages.
They are poignant words written with the transparency of youth, gathering maturity and experience, evolving to wisdom, into the spiritual realm.
This is not just poetry. There are a million stories in each poem. Once for each of us. From the teenager discovering their individuality, the young adult challenged by relationships and the world around them, to the Elder denizens of Earth, who cherish their memories as veterans of life, this is a book to be read and reread, a keepsake to console, embrace and affirm your recognition of the truth within yourself that is already there.