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John Russell Sweeney
AUMNIVERSE
 
I dreamed a dream
and in this dream, I found myself
within an auditorium,
spacious and vast.
People, people everywhere,
in concentric circles, seated facing
centre stage where there, the orchestra,
seated facing lone conductor;
his waving motion of arm and hand,
nobly directing the symphonic dance.
The multifarious instrumental sound
resonating through air, walls and in the ears
of the audience, silent and in awe.
The scene before my visionary eyes,
transforming - the symphony, softer now,
quieter, melting into gentle sea of silence.
The conductor, now a dot, a miniscule dot
of infinitesimal size,
in the centre of, not an auditorium
but a vast and beautiful mandala,
of intricate patterns of every spectral hue.
I now approach this central dot
and there, I enter within, I know not how;
I hear, though not with mortal ear,
total silence, yet of wondrous harmonies
and I see, though not with mortal eye
a multi-dimensional infinitude
of ever-unfolding energy.
So awestruck indeed am I,
to here, behold and deeply penetrate
the supreme and fundamental Tone,
on which the symphonious fabric
of entire and living cosmic mandala,
resonates it's energies and sings. ---
It is the AUM. (OM)
 
WHITE  NOISE
 
The wind, thro' the forest, blowing;
'tis a stable restful sound,
the sound of myriad frequencies, blended.
No tone, dominant above the others,
but all together unite into sonic purity;
a purity, reminiscent of that
of fresh, driven snow -
White -
White as when the sevenfold hue
of the rainbow spectrum are complemented,
complemented into whiteness of unified light -
'tis also why soapsuds, riding upon-
e'en upon soiled swirling waters,
look so pure, so innocent in whiteness.
Take one bubble and see,
within its filmy surface,
the same sevenfold, spectral hue -
Place it back and there, becomes it, white,
white in unified, cohesive community.
 
What a lesson, 'tis this for humanity,
that Nature, the child of creative, Divine Hand,
does present to us if we, but listen, observe -
 
In the beginning, there was Light -pure, white.
From it, were molded the seven frequencies, so beauteous,
that arch o'er every storm, every tempest,
that bedevils mankind in his self-driven quest
to lord, to exploit, to dominate -
only to create dissonance, disharmony,
destruction and needless death.
 
Take time, in the forest, where all of nature's offspring,
together sing in ecoharmony to pure-blended white noise,
from which each, within her realm, a tone, extracts,
to mold each it's own unique song;
and thus see how if only mankind would likewise do -
such that the cacophony of conflict, usurped lordship,
may then perhaps become as the whiteness of mutual cooperation,
rather than the sore redness of cruelty, of exploitation -
Stop, be still - take time....

NATURE'S FUGUE



The singing trees, their bifurcated arms, 
dividing the tongue of the restless wind 
which weaves the seamless fabric of the sky; 
while light and shadow, in mottled frolic, 
contend in playful dance 
upon the wildflowers' nodding heads. 
And then the wind, a moment, turns 
to hearken in brief and silent poise 
to the sky-borne, undulating tone, 
of distant aircraft, wending forth 
onward between the sailing clouds, 
whose heads of replicating, fractal design, 
stand bold and loud in ocean of azure. 
The fleet-winged voice of Echo flies,
'tween cliff and mountain side, 
then becomes the call of carrion crow. 
The distant rumble of Thor's awakening, 
summoning Earth and sky to copulate 
bringing forth the fruits of their union, 
so fresh and vibrant green

and nourished by heaven's breast.
____________

INNER LEVITATION 


Ah, but a whisper, 
warm and inviting, 
gently invigorating; 
this energy from the depths 
of one's being, 
arising from it's slumber 
upon the lang'rous bed. 
So sweet and beautiful, 
this inner sound 
of many voices; 
swirling, dancing 
to the cadence 
of the heartbeat. 
A little more momentum, 
a little higher climbing, 
launching deep 
into inner space 
of blissful unknowing. 
One's feet upon Earth, 
no longer touching; 
for the song, O the song 
from deep within 
defies all gravity, all heaviness, 
lifting, elevating 
in mounting crescendo; 
gathering heart and mind, 
soul and body 
to dance in rhythm 
with night and day, 
wind and storm, 
swell and calm,

to the call 
of bare-breasted Liberty -- 
leading. 
___________

MEDITATIONS UPON THE HILL 

Alone upon the hill 
while the arbors sing 
to the undulating windsong, 
uplifting one's spirit 
from Earth to higher realms; 
transcendence and immanence 
draw near to kiss 
in blissful union, 
for there, Earth meets sky 
and matter joins with spirit 
and eyes are opened 
and ears attuned 
to light, inaccessible 
and sound, inexpressible 
to mortal bounds. 
For here, to those 
of contemplative heart, 
the foretaste of Heaven, receive; 
this being more 
than meets the eye 
or heard by ear, 
as it is a glimpse, a tiny glimpse 
of eternity, 
unveiled but a little 
alone upon the hill. 

---John Russell Sweeney
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