Poetry

Below is an assortment of poetry that I have recently written. It was never my intent to write or include such material on this site. In my meditations I was led to write and then to include this here. I have no training or knowledge of what constititutes good poetry. Such as it is I hope you find it of value.

They are placed here in the order they were written. They reflect the issues I was feeling at the time and some poems show a progression of awareness that was missing in previous poems. In the earlier poems I sat down to write because I felt I was supposed to and had no agenda or idea what form the poem would take. Later poems would loosely form in meditation with a title sometimes appearing. I do not take "dictation" or "channel" from anything but there definitely is a loving presence that is necessary for the process to occur. 
  
         The Current of Our lives

 Currents flood from our beginning,
         flowing to an end of no return.
 We are held in its grip unrelenting,
         our fate of no concern.

 Onward and downward we struggle,
          gasping for every breath.
 Each rock and eddy a hurdle,
          a moment closer to our death.

 But lying within the conflict,
         that permeates our lives.
 A light presents us contradict,
         that we may yet survive.

 It’s not there to give us promise,
         of endings we desire.
  Yet it is a type of solace,
         that will lift us higher.

 Love dances among the droplets,
        glistening with its light.
 A balance to what is obnoxious,
        within our focused sight.

 In the current unyielding,
        that permeates the cold,
 Exists a love unending,
        A beauty to behold.

 What we see and what we feel,
        is what we focus on.
 And if its love it will reveal,
        the place that we belong.

                                  Brian Wilson
                               December 2017
​​​​           
                      Invisible
 
  You beseech your doctor,
       of the pain that brings you down.
  He just sits behind his desk,
          never uttering a sound.
 
  You only seek to find some pay,
          for the skills you have crowned.
  They just sort through your resume’,
          never uttering a sound.
 
  You cry out against injustice,
          of that which you are found.
   They just sit upon the bench,
          never uttering a sound.
 
  You seek the touch of another,
     asking for nothing more profound.
  They just look the other way,
        never uttering a sound.
 
  And so it is our American dream,
          to seek and not be bound.
  We claw our way to happiness,
          never uttering a sound.
 
                                  Brian Wilson
                                  Dec. 30, 2017
  
  ​​
                        Love
 
    It permeates like a fog
        in places too small to see.
    It flows and dances,
        fitting in like a key.
 
    Unlike fog it does not hide
        the world that it touches.
    Only lighting the great expanse
        and all that it brushes.
 
    And those who can attune to it
        sense it in the air.
    While others know it not,
        too lost in their despair.
 
    I feel it wrap around me
        like a blanket warm.
    A comfort in the struggle.
        A shield from the storm.
 
    How I long to feel it though,
        not just upon the air.
    But from another close to me,
        that we may finally share.
 
    But such is not the life I live
        for reasons hard to tell.
    Is it fate or purpose
        or flaws that in me dwell.
 
    Is my focus to intent
        upon what I think I need.
    That I miss the greater gift
        and so am left to bleed.
 
    It’s time at last to take a look
        at the problem and the pain.
    To sort out the issues
        holding me in chains.
 
                               Brian Wilson
                            January 2, 2018
  
            Illusions of the Heart

    We crave the connection
         that binds the heart.
     Yet fear rules our vision
         and keeps us a part.

     So with timid steps
          we forge a tie.
      But fear rules our vision
          so we let it die.

      Created in love,
          it has always been ours.
      But fear rules our vision
          and so leaves its scars.

      We struggle alone
          in our solitude.
      But fear rules our vision,
          creating the mood.

      It has always been here
          just a heartbeat away.
      If love would rule our vision,
          then the connection would stay.

                                    Brian Wilson
                                  January 4. 2018
  ​​​
  ​​
       Weave Us All Together
 
 Threads of life move through us all
       a process we do not see.
  So in those moments we don’t recall,
       the form that it could be.
 
  Many events break our hearts,
       at junctures in our lives.
  Fracturing us into many parts,
        as if cut apart by knives.
 
 Yet the thread that forms the tether,
      unerringly through our souls.
 Would pull us all together,
      and lead us to our goals.
 
 But how we turn away from it,
       as if we did not care.
 More intent to have a fit,
        than to be aware.
 
 But love creates the theme,
       that can heal our division.
 If we could but pursue the dream,
       to bring about our vision.
 
                                  Brian Wilson
                                January 9, 2018
  
  
               The Light Within

  In our darkest hour,
      when hope cannot be found.
  Fear threatens to devour
      and completely surround.

  We cannot see
      what we most desire.
  That which would set us free
      and raise us higher.

   The pain and the anguish
       fill are horizon.
  Seemingly never to vanish
      unable to brighten.

  But the answer lies dormant
     ready to awaken.
  To offer restorement
      and not be forsaken.

  It’s not just hope
      of what might be.
  Or a means to cope
       with reality.

  It’s much more real
      than we might consider.
  A means to heal
      and not just glitter.

  A love that would reveal
      what has always been.
  The peace we could feel
       from the light within.

                   Brian Wilson
                   Jan. 15, 2008
  
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Your thoughts and reactions to these poems are important. While I feel they have the ability to inspire and touch the lives of others I really don't know. Like the rest of humanity I search for meaning. Hopefully they enable your search as well.