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”

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THE ONE

The sun blinks…yawns, then rises

as the moon falls to earth–a dying rose before the last petal drops–

passing the torch to another day.

The eyes of Earth open

giving witness as Life moves in and out

…arises, subsides

as bird, leaf, butterfly,

the lowly rock, robin, human;

exalted or reviled. 

The One becomes the many and masquerades as form,

each thread weaving a tapestry of existence.

Interconnected. Vanishing. Replenished.

Chariots of shooting stars spin across the night sky

into the Cosmos

between the planets, beyond galaxies.

A glowing halo of conscious space is awakening

becoming aware of itself.

The “I” of Infinity…..

through You.

With hands untied and held in yours, 

you free me,

release me from the bonds of Earth.

You be me

With no between between us.

The fallacy of you and me,

of all the forms that make a “we”

disintegrates… eventually

as does the world through which we see 

creating our false identity

but fails to find and fails to see   

the portal where we  merge into Eternity.

LINGER NOT

I am starved for silence

besieged by the din of insatiable industry; 

its percolating miasma of exhaust  

belching in the air.  

 

Bound to form, barred from spirit

I move through a zone of distorted shapes and structures,

consumed by rabid activity

numbed in a heady drowse.

 

 Walk on! Walk past  the gray shadowy figures

silhouetted against the concrete and granite walls,

 stolidly shuffling by,

lost–trespassers dragged through time,

 

Alight and linger not

lest delusion overtake you,

and blind you to the truth.

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STILL

In a single moment,

life ripped apart the last visage of illusion

from my mind;

tearing away the memories that I viewed through,

everything I belonged to…desperately held onto.

I have been painting a portrait of existence; 

Each brush stroke filled with the pigment of significance,

masking what was really there.

Behind the window dressing,

reality is laid  bare–

an empty space of naked seeing.

Just Being.

How does it feel?

Quiet. Vacant. Still.

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

…then disappears.

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BOOK ANNOUNCEMENT…

Coming soon – The upcoming release of Ronaye’s  book by British publisher in London, England; to be available on Amazon.

                                    

                 …with a broken wing
Expressions of
the Human Spirit

poems by Ronaye Hudyma

Description:

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.