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Various Poems
By John J. McNally
MAGIC LESSON #1
Each breath, each wink of an eye is magic
A beautiful illusion, created by what we call our senses
To reinforce the reality of being
In the beginning, we
needed to believe we were real
Solid forms, solid bodies, solid furniture
Reality was a brick we could fast hold
onto,
Fearing that we would cease to exist,
the minute we let go
"What if.....?"
The question echoed through everyone's mind
at one point or another. And some loosened their grip,
just a bit, and saw for the first time...
That the brick wasn't
real.
Scary thought! Many
clung to it even harder,
pounding it with their fear chanting over
and over "The brick is real!"
But some were not
as frightened,
and as they gazed at the illusion of the brick for
the first time,
they asked "What is real?" And the answer came back....
"You are."
Stillness
How often do we stop,
and listen to the stillness of our beings?
In life, we spend so much time reacting
to the stimuli around us
It’s rare that we can hear the sound
of our own voices.
Putting yourself into a quiet place isn’t
enough
Unless you learn to quiet the mind as
well
What would you hear if you stopped worrying
about bills, income taxes and the like
Stepped away from the dramas of family
and friends
all demanding your attention, your notice,
And all looking for some action or reaction
from you
Would you even recognize your own impulses?
Can you tell your heart’s desire from
the millions
of fluttering messages which echo within your mind?
It seems easy at first, you say “yes,
if I had the time, I would do....”
But what if you gave yourself that time,
And found that you were so used to reacting
and responding to other’s demands,
that you didn’t know how to listen to
yourself
How to look upon the stillness of the
trees
And just be
Illusions
In a lunar world of hand
wrought dreams
Stumbled a man of cautious demeanor
Too many doors which led only to mirrors,
had blinded him to himself
Currents and eddies
swirled through hidden points
Transforming mirrors into dreams and
illusions into snowmen
Voices raised in rough
chorus of a drinking song,
and the clear song of an angel slicing
through.
Fishing boats, magic stones and boards,
tarot cards and dancing elves
Leading to sleepless nights, psychic
explosions,
fireworks and celebrations among the masses.
It was a kind of dance, a slip through
the woods, a leap of faith and imagination.
The mirrors melted swimming into the
current,
the man threw his caution into the wind, and fashioned it
to a sail.
He joined the chorus of singers, danced
among wiser birds.
The angels guided them, until the final
mirror gave way,
revealing the angels to be themselves.
Doors and endless probabilities expanded
and hugged them close, lost lovers were reunited, new affairs were
kindled,
all were awakened and refreshed
This story has no end,
because the
probabilities continue to unfold.
Revolution
Revolution begins every
day
With the rising of each day’s sun
Our pain, our suffering
Comes from resisting the currents
Like throwing your body at the ocean
to prevent the tides
Fear is the coral
reef waiting to snag you and drag you down
Hatred is the great
stone on the shoreline
Which erodes over time,
No matter how desperately one clings
to it
Love is the great sea mammal
Whose songs help set us free
To ride the winds
And swim in sunlight
The true expression of our being
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