Quixa's Patternistic Poems

mirror selves

The World

When I look out into the world
I see my other self.
When I look inward I see my enemy
In my mirrored eyes.
And I know
The rest of me
Surrounds me, dances with me,
And when I die
We will be united—
The world and I.
And all my memories
Will be its history.

The Center

In the Center one knows.
The power flows
Brilliant, exulting, indomitable.
And outward one flies
Weaving power into crystalline skies,
Catching potential on the wing
To make reality sing:
O Fate! O Destiny!

The knowledge fades and power dies
Like twilight from the purple skies,
And you long to find the way again,
But the paths have grown confused and dim.
Only death can unseal battle-weary eyes
And return the power to build the skies
When it sweeps you back into the Center.

center
eagle

The Eagle

I am an eagle with rainbow wings,
A tapestry of desires and insights
And soaring thoughts,
Neatly interwoven,
Each feather
A moment in my life,
Yet eternal.
When I die
The wind will take my feathers
And blow them away.
My moments will live again.
In whom I cannot say.
Just as I don't know
Whose they were
Before they became mine.

Deepest Self

O deepest self!
O most noble part of my soul!
Toward what peak do you soar?
And where, and in whom
Do you long to awaken?
I cannot be all of you.
I did not create you,
But you awakened me,
Breathed life into me.
But from whence your life,
And what peak do you seek?
How many have you awakened?
Do you appear at random
As the patterns fall,
Or is there a higher-order pattern
In your awakening touch?
Do you seek to join together
Those you touch?
Do you long to go somewhere,
Building our lives
Into some clear, more intense awareness?

soaring
love

Life

As a lonely child conjures a world of fantasy
So God creates the universe, and us, its actors.
We are all splinters of God.
Yet individual and unique.
We walk the paths our legs can manage
And play with the companions with whom we find ties,
Expressing in our love for each other
The love that God in his loneliness
Longed to know.

Immortality

Immortality is impossible.
There is eternity...
But it's not for you or me.
We are transient patterns,
Soap bubbles borne on the wind,
Flaring with rainbow colors for an instant
Before bursting.
Eternity is the wind around us.
It shares its breath with us
For our moment,
Then passes on.
But to be aware of our true nature,
To add our gleam
To the light of other minds,
Past and future,
Joining in their awareness—
Is that not immortality?

bubbles
mountain falls

The Mountain

When our minds are new
We coax mountains from the formless blackness
And lift our eyes to their peaks,
Carve trails across broad, rocky flanks,
Sculpt tiny villages,
Landscape waterfalls and bubbling brooks,
Gazebos overlooking deep gorges
Bright with ferns
That lift their pale fingers against
The shadows
And rustle in the mist-laden breeze
Rising from the pools
Where waterfalls pitch in chattering confusion.
We mould characters to meet amid the green and black.
There in the gazebo we stand,
I loving you and you loving me.
I am you and you are me.
Love as much as you can!
Be as happy as you can!
Evoke it from the blackness,
Because nothing's really there.
When you die life itself goes away,
Dissolving like a dream.
Not even memories are left.

Juxtaposition

Death's an illusion
Like mist from the sea
It keeps us from fusion
It makes "you" and "me".

forest

Life's an illusion—
The flip-side of death
Its boil of confusion
And heartbeat and breath
Convince and coerce
But when all's said and done
Life cannot be lost
For it's not yet begun.