SOUL OF THE NIGHT SKY
Dr. Gregory Lawton
Soul of the Night Sky
Soul of the Night Sky (Draft), Copyright 2019 Dr. Gregory T. Lawton All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from Gregory T. Lawton. Muyblue Productions 2040 Raybrook Street, SE Suite 104 Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546 616-285-9999
Writing, Art and Design – Dr. Gregory T. Lawton
Dedication I carry with me a profound sense of gratitude. This gratitude is a feeling deep in my heart and it defies description. It is a physical sensation not unlike the feeling of love, or falling in love, or being in love. That feeling of your first love which has never been forgotten. I cannot say with certainty to whom or what this sense of gratitude is directed. In previous books and dedications, I have named by dearest wife Ginny, my precious daughters Megan and Jaime, my grandchildren Ajay and Alex, and my teachers and mentors, Professor Huo Chi-Kwang, Dr. James Schleichert, Joan Laird, and Mr. Zikru’llah Khadem. But the source of my gratitude is greater than any of these wonderful souls. The source of my gratitude is Him who has no peer or partner. This gratitude has a weighty sense to it and bows before God, the Creator, but it is so vast and so wide that I know of no words that may adequately describe. I keep falling and failing, but I keep arising and struggling‌.
Preface In my previous book of poetry, Beloved, A Song of Longing, I stated that I did not think of myself as a poet. Rather I see myself as having a conversation with myself and writing down the words that I hear. In this collection of poems, I am reaching out to the hearts of my loved ones and attempting to share what I hear with them.
I will quote from the preface of Beloved, A Song of Longing, “If it was not for the inspiration, and breathing in deeply of the words, of Bahá’u’lláh, 'Abdu'l-Bahá, and Rūmī, I would not be able to write a single word. In my “process” of writing I consult with these three Masters, and I listen carefully to the peaceful voice of my soul.” Dr. Gregory T. Lawton January 2019
Introduction This is another short book of my poems sprinkled with a few watercolor images. These poems are part of a conversation that I have been having with myself regarding death and my feeble imaginings of our second life. Most of these poems were written over a period of months during 2018, but a few were written before 2018. Many of the poems in this meager collection have been written as if I am talking to my dearest wife, Virginia (Ginny) Georgianna Dusseau. I often place quotes within my poems or at the beginning or the end of a poem. In this book I have selected quotes from Bahá’u’lláh, the Báb, 'Abdu'l-Bahá and the Holy Bible. I have added these writings to several poems and when I have done so I have placed the writings in quotes. To the reader of this collections of poems, if I may suggest, read the poems out loud as if you are speaking to someone you love. In this draft version of my book have intentionally omitted a table of contents and page numbers.
" Verily, we are God’s, and to Him shall we return.” Bahá’u’lláh “O SON OF THE SUPREME! I have made death a messenger of joy to thee. Wherefore dost thou grieve? I made the light to shed on thee its splendor. Why dost thou veil thyself therefrom.” Bahá’u’lláh
SOUL OF THE NIGHT SKY
Waving through the Window I saw you through the window And I sadly waved goodbye, I knew that I would miss you But I didn't want to cry. Is this what it’s like When it's time to leave, Your loved ones standing in the window And you’re gone before they grieve? I saw you through the window And you seemed so far away, If I had known how lonely I would be I would have begged to stay. If this is how I'll feel When I reach the other side, Then I'll wait by the window Until you come outside.
Come with Me Come with me and We will flee. This endless dream is a bubble in a stream. There is nothing more That we will be. So, come with me.... I look across the water And I feel free. To fly away, to fly away. This is skin, and this is flesh. This is blood, and this is bone. But we are made of finer things, We are light, and stars and galaxies, So, come with me. We are birds, and these are wings. We are spirits so hear us sing “Come with me....�
A Most Effulgent Light Beloved, I implore you to remove the veil That conceals your most luminous beauty. Turn your countenance towards my horizon And shed the moon of your love upon my heart. There is no greater power in existence Than that of love, radiant and eternal. Souls glow more intensely when clothed In the lustrous raiment of love. Two resplendent souls united in marriage Become shining mirrors of each other’s love. Their love reflected one from the other, Is magnified each to the other. One light enters the other light and united They shine more intensely than the sun. Two lovers, wedded in this manner, united and entwined, Become the flower that follows the sun across the sky.
They become two gleaming orbs of light And incandescent elements of divine love. So unbelievably glorious is their light and love That it quickens the souls of those who approach them. The Source of this most effulgent light and love is God And through the grace of God, May you and your lover, achieve it.
The Purity of Tears The shape of these words is formed by my tongue Into waves that roll across my lips, And are uplifted by my breath to my beloveds’ ear. Dark lashes frame my beloved eyes And crown the diamond glint within. He gives to me his stars to hold. My most fervent desire is purity in all things. Even in traits unknown to me And in attributes unawakened within me. I have born witness to purity in children In their hair, in their skin, and in their eyes. Even in the sweetness of their smell. Purity is the most effervescent of the virtues And rarer than an orchid in the desert. Purity is the supreme ornament of the soul. I would not know this if the beloved had not told me, The beauty of his pure words caused me to weep, And the purity of the tears falling from my eyes gives me hope.
Let Me Sleep Would you hold me while I sleep? Hold me close, I fear the cold. Hold me tightly, my soul to keep. In your arms I find such peace, That of my fear, there is not a trace. Carried away on the breath of grace. I beg you, hold me through the night. In the morning you will find me sleeping still, But don’t wake me with the morning sun. I am tired, and my work is done. So, do not wake me at the break of day, In the comfort of your arms let me stay. I beg you, quietly sing me to sleep, And ferry me across the river deep, Lifted by the soft melody of your voice. My dear, I know this is a lot to ask of you, There are so many things that we could do, But you see, I am tired, and I need to sleep.
On the Other Side The other side is closer than you know, And on the other side people are blessed. Where once asleep now they are awake, So are they blessed. Where once dead now they are alive, So are they blessed. Where once blind now they see beauty, So are they blessed. Where once lost now they find their way, So are they blessed. Where once distressed now they are tranquil, So are they blessed. Where once thirsty now they are quenched, So are they blessed. Where once insatiable now they are filled,
So are they blessed. Where once abased now they are glorified, So are they blessed. Where once needy now they are wealthy, So are they blessed. Where once ignorant now they have knowledge, So are they blessed. The other side is closer than you know, And on the other side people are blessed. “Meditate on what the poet hath written: ‘Wonder not, if my BestBeloved be closer to me than mine own self; wonder at this, that I, despite such nearness, should still be so far from Him.’ Bahá’u’lláh
Take Me with You Brush my hair See, it is my crown. Caress my face See, it is my light. Look at my eyes See, they are gems of my soul. Touch my lips See, they are guardians of truth. See, these are all but parts of me. But Me, I gave myself to you That you might richer be, And I no poorer be. Remember, when you accepted me You locked me in your heart And promised to take me with you, Wherever you may go.
Pray for the Day I pray for the day When it will be on earth As it is in Heaven. Where love is born again In sacrifice. Where fathers and sons And mothers and daughters. Husbands and wives And all friends and lovers. Will hold each other in Tight embrace, With tears flowing From tender eyes, Will say, one to the other, My gratitude is for you, My thankfulness is for your heart.
I have no need for anything Because I have your love. The only thing I ask, Is how can I love you more? How can I be more kind? I thought of you as a jewel, Now I see you are a treasure. Those who sacrifice For each other on earth, Will love eternally In Heaven.
Song of the Columbine I asked the Columbine why it seemed so sad, Why it bows its flowered head in resignation. It replied, "Prepare your heart for a time of pain For the Days of Sorrow and Separation are upon us." (If you could understand the Columbines heart You would smell loves perfume in its deepest part.) To the Columbine I then replied, "As if I care about the vicissitudes of this life. As if I care about its corrupt and rotten roots, Its twisted twigs and stunted shoots." To which the Columbine gave voice these words, "I see you are just a foolish man Whose soul is trapped in a lump of clay." Thus, did the Song of the Columbine unstop my ears And lay to rest my deepest fears. Before my eyes the Columbine withered in the sun,
And the palace of my desire fell in ruins at my feet. .... still the perfume of the sweet-scented Columbine Wraps its tendrils around my soul, And makes of my emptied heart, a beggar’s bowl.
The Desert Wind I have entered the desert To understand my thirst for you And to rub myself raw, Of everything but you. When all has worn away, When all has fallen away, When all has blown away, All that will remain is love. If I was a desert, You would be my rain. If I was a desert, You would be my promise. If I was a desert, You would be my mirage. Desert wind embrace me And draw from me the water of life That from this deep welling,
My soul may be revived. There in the golden light between my heart and yours I will join you there.
The Last Time The last time I held you The air was pulled from the sky And time was measured by heartbreak. What lover is prepared for a last embrace? I don’t know where I go when I write these words But I don’t want you to come here. These are the saddest words I have written. There is a cold, empty space, a void grace once filled But no longer, what remains you do not want to know. The mind is jealous of the heart, of its capacity. First the light of the sun grows brighter Until it disappears over the horizon, Like the rose that grows more beautiful, And then fades and falls into the dust. I pray you never think about the things I do. It is too sad to think that you would.
I want you to come upon the path unexpectedly, A delightful surprise that distracts your attention. I don’t want to see you waving goodbye from the window And moving away into the distance, and out of sight. Try as I may, I have found that I cannot forestall this sadness, Without losing out on the opportunity for happiness. These scars across my heart are not from love, These scars are from thoughts and words like these. Greatness is always found in the embrace of loneliness. Why is it that some people are both looking far forward And deeply into the past, why call this genius? Everyone knows when it is time to leave a place It’s that sad feeling that comes over you.... And these are the saddest words I have written. The last time I held you The air was torn from my lungs And I could not say goodbye.
Dying in the Loss of You A sad refrain has made its way to the portal of my heart And its requiem has taken complete possession of me, This music is the movement of the voice of God. Its cadence is as irresistible to mortal men as flesh to a lion. Its rhapsody must be devoured and consumed, It must be poured in baptism over the upturned faces of men. Rivers of grief have washed through these tired hands And thundered against the shores of my resistance, Leaving in their wake the barren bones of my defiance. I have turned my face to the wind And vainly shouted in anger, Only to have my words blown back And piled against me, For there is no recourse or sanctuary From the evitability of death. In fear of losing you I have already buried Myself in the soil of grief. It is not my death I fear, instead I fear living your death, And dying in the loss of you....
I was kneeling at deaths bedside, Offering prayers for deliverance When I caught the faint traces of an angelic falsetto singing, ".... there is naught higher than this grace nor sweeter than this blessing." Bahá’u’lláh Hand in hand, side by side, We are marching to deaths domicile. One will enter, and one will be turned away.... In separation, we both know which one Will suffer the greatest loss. O SON OF THE SUPREME! I have made death a messenger of joy to thee. Wherefore dost thou grieve? I made the light to shed on thee its splendor. Why dost thou veil thyself therefrom. Bahá’u’lláh
Tattoos of Sorrow To write these words I dipped my finger into the inkwell of grief, And smeared tattoos of sorrow across my body. The fearsome shape of some sorrows is so immense That they swallow us whole and blot out every trace of self. They are monsters in the darkened room, That unspeakable thing that hides under the bed at night. They are the fear that sucks the breath Out of our throat and paralyzes our limbs. My greatest fear has always had a familiar face, But for honors sake, I may not speak his name. I now recognize that I have reached that point in life Where I have lost more than I have gained.... Where there is now more that I will never possess, Than I have ever held dear or close. My last attachment to the past is slowly dying,
And each goodbye is visited by the pain of a past memory. I cannot see my way through the darkness that surrounds me, Because I have seen hate so powerful that it swallows all love. I have experienced mindless rage so intense that it extinguishes hopes candle, Leaving only a wisp of smoke and the acrid smell of burnt vapor. What tender child does not stretch out its hands to love, Who does not need love more than milk? I once thought that grief was the bottom of the churning sea of life, But then the ship of grief wrecked me on the rocks of anguish. Grief, and its sister anguish, are most familiar to me, Sewn into the soles of my feet, they have shadowed me my entire life. But it is love that I fear most (or those who profess it), For it is those who profess love, and cannot give it, That have tortured me. Their obscene tattoos festoon across my naked skin,
And the stripes of their lashes mark the boundaries of my pain. Then I would finally cry,” a poor torn heart is mine, Broken and desolate”, My only hope, the words that Faith Whispers, saying…. “Were it not for the cold, how would the heat of Thy words prevail…, Were it not for calamity, how would the sun of Thy patience shine….” Bahá’u’lláh
Bring Me Your Light There are times when I falter When my steps slip and slide And I can’t see the light upon me Or shining from inside. When my lips tremble And my limbs shake The earth rises up And my soul begins to quake. I break into pieces And fall to the ground. I am willing to rise If you take my hand And steady me as I try to stand. Bring me your light Mine has dimmed. Bring me your light Guide my way. Bring me your light Light my soul And all of me,
And all of me With your light. Bring me your light, Bring me your light, Bring me your light.
Inuksuk Here I am A speck of dust, Exiled to the land of dust, Surrounded by vast nothingness. Yet dare I To speak, to seek, The wisdom of my soul And windflowers of truth. Spread before me The sands of time And show me the way From inuksuk to inuksuk. We are holy, Created pure and good, But we lost our way And wander the desert. Folded up within,
A universe of light, We are no puny form, But mirrors of power. This is love, To hear His voice, To be gently caressed, To long for release
The Memory of Rain If I was a desert, I would mourn the loss of rain And pile up stones as a memorial to its passing. I would create a place sacred to the memory of water, And my bible would be written by its traces in the sand. Water rushes swiftly through the dry washes, Its great torrents devoured by the deserts thirst. So thirsty is the desert for water That it worships the mirages of the sun. Life is a desert mirage faking the promise of water, Its air stealing our tears and giving nothing in return. I am a desert, silent in the relentless heat, Lost in my memories of rain. ‌.and when the rain finally falls, I will send up flowers to embrace it.
Hold Fast to Your Dreams Children, hold fast to your dreams And do not let your good dreams die, Hold them tight, or away they will fly. Children, hold firmly to your dreams And let your sweet dreams lift you high, And like a red balloon sail up to the sky. Children, hold tight to your dreams For a life without dreams, is a sad butterfly, That lies in its cocoon waiting to die.
I Have a Dream of Gentleness I implore you, This morning bring yourself to gentleness. Resolve yourself, To set aside all thoughts of hate and harm. Give wings to your words, And to the world release them. ‌.to spread peace, Amongst the flowers of humankind. Mend and heal, The sick and the injured children. Arise and uplift, The lost and the hurting hearts. Be a sanctuary, Among the displaced and homeless. Be a breath, Of gentleness to all.
Be a smile, Of kindness to everyone. Be a blessing Of the presence of gentleness. Before you sleep, Open yourself to your gentleness. With your remaining days, Share your dream of gentleness. ‌.before your beating wings, Carry away your gentle soul.
I Know You Are There I know you are there, I am the one asleep. Hush, and say no more.... I know you are there, I am the one blind. Hush, and say no more.... I know you are there, I am the one deaf. Hush, and say no more.... I know you are there, I am the one veiled. Hush, and say no more.... I know you are there, I am the one lost. Hush, and say no more.... I know you are there, I am the one alone.
Hush, and say no more.... I know you are there, I am the one forlorn. Hush, and say no more‌. I know you are there, I am the one crying. Hush, and say no more, I am the One waiting to speak.
Holy Mountain I have piled high the stones of my anguish, They rest between me and my loftiest aspirations. Holy Mountain, my life and my death are wedded to you Your rarified air is the source of my inspiration. I once found a love too perfect for me, I cast it away and sought refuge in another’s arms. I have taken this love for granted And give no thought to the air I breathe. If my eye had befittingly recognized you I would have worshipped you as my Savior. My misdeeds and trespasses burden me And anchor me within the straits of despair. Holy Mountain, remembrance of you Is my remedy, my rescue, and my refuge. Heed the call of this poor one as you have promised, Lift his drooping wings and allow him to rise again.
The shame of this falcon is to return to the falconer Without prey, empty, and broken. There is both comfort and sorrow in the knowing, The Beloved is independent of all things, even my love. “O my God! I beseech Thee by the evidences of Thy favor, to let me draw nigh to the sublime heights of Thy holy presence and protect me from inclining myself toward the subtle allusions of aught else but Thee.” The Báb
From the Soul of the Night Sky From the soul of the night sky Pieces of me have fallen with the stars, And their dust has become the path That I follow to your heart. This is love, to be born and to be reborn, To be the spring rain, that becomes tears of joy, The candle flame fading into the light of the rising sun, The wave forever pulled back into the sea. The musical note asked the violin string, "Where will I find you again?" These vibrations that pass between us Have eternally attuned my heart to you. With each breath, I have the power To make Air my prisoner, But eventually I must release her And that knowledge frightens me. I have seen all the eyes that cry, I have heard all the tongues that pray,
I have touched all the hands that reach for me, But it is only a few, whose lips I kissed. When the pole of heavenly attraction overcomes the gravity of earthly desire, We soar, we soar, we wing our way. Into the soul of the night sky.
Dark Water This you must know. Everything carries me to you. The misty wind, the rain filled River at night, Its dark water. You must know this. Everything reminds me of you. The filtered moonlight, and soft fog Clinging to the river, Its droplets covering my hair. This you must know before I go. My secrets flow in hidden streams. They swim downstream, buoyant In the cold dark water, Hushed by the moaning waves.
Dreams of Flying Last night I dreamt I was a stone dreaming of flying. You and I both know stones can't fly, But stones don't know that, And so, they dream.... On the outside, where the eye rests, Stones are rough and common. But crack open a stone and behold, A universe within. The beauty of Cassiopeia Or the heart of Leonis.... Stones treasure all this, and more. Hold a stone to your ear, It will whisper its secrets to you. But be careful, The stones have been crushed by time....
Through countless cycles, Stones have witnessed eons of grief. On a solemn morning, They lay wet, moistened by grieving tears. If I was a stone, I would want you To hold me tightly in your hand. To pressure me so firmly, That the heat would transform me. Press me to your heart, And kneel before the rock of ages. Upon a field of stone, Marked by an endless sea of graves, Together, you and I will join the stones In their dreams of flying.
Look Within Your Heart As I slept, your breath lightly blew across my cheek And a strand of your hair fell across my eyes, Your lips pressed against my ear and bid me, listen. “Whatever God hath willed hath been and that which He hath not willed shall not be.” Bahá’u’lláh So, did you gently pull me back from the abyss of sorrow. These days of supreme sadness and separation Have emptied my heart and made it a hollow vessel, Devoid of understanding or comprehension. Where my heart had eyes, they are blind, Where my heart had ears, they are deaf, Where my heart had voice, it is mute. Who is there, who will wipe away my tears, Who is there, who will banish my sorrow, Who is there, who will take away this pain? Your love is my remedy,
Your remembrance is my strength and shield, Your name is my “healing and my succor.” For those who truly love As love is meant to be, soul to soul, There is no separation or sorrow. The other side is closer than your life vein, Closer to you than your pulse or breath, So close, so near, so inseparable. I am calling out to you from heaven, Can you hear me, do you understand? We can be apart, but never pulled apart. I am always by your side, my breath upon your cheek, I am always close to you, my hair across your eyes, I am always near to you, my lips pressed against you. Fear not, grieve not death, death has no dominion over lovers…. When you need me place a prayer upon your lips And if you would find me, look within your heart. There will I be, radiant and eternal.
The Desert Beloved, if I was lying in the desert dying of thirst Would you satisfy my need from your mouth, Would you press your lips to mine and restore my life? From the sweet spring water of your mouth My endless drought of separation is satiated, You are a stream in the desert whose flow is life. “Free thyself from the fetters of this world, and loose thy soul from The prison of self. Seize thy chance, for it will come to thee no more. This is the river of everlasting life that hath flowed From the wellspring of the pen of the merciful; well is it with them that drink.” Bahá’u’lláh I am seized by silence in the desert of the unknown, Where all my desires melt away in the fevered heat. Freed from the mirage of self I am left with only one need, To gaze deeply into your soulful eyes, and never look away.
With My Last Breath If the door was not ajar How would the wind blow in? If your eyes were not open How would you see the light? It is our naked flesh That feels the burn of the sun. It is the unbarred heart That glows with love. This flood of desire Is swallowed by the earth. This flame of passion Devours the candle. It is the cupped flower That fills with rain. It is sky spread sail That thunders through the waves.
It is with our arms spread wide That we embrace the Beloved. With my last breath I speak these words. With my last breath I release this song. With my last breath I say this prayer.... "May you be given life! May the rain of the Divine Mercy and the warmth of the Sun of Truth make your gardens fruitful, so that many beautiful flowers of exquisite fragrance and love may blossom in abundance. Turn your faces away from the contemplation of your own finite selves and fix your eyes upon the Everlasting Radiance; then will your souls receive in full measure the Divine Power of the Spirit and the Blessings of the Infinite Bounty." ‘Abdu'l-BahĂĄ
I Give Myself I give myself to this day And to whatever may become of this day. I give myself to the morning fog And to the trees cloaked in the morning mist. I give myself to the summer wheat And to the sun by which it is kissed. I give myself to your heart And to the hope that this light will fill you. Herein will I abide in the love of God For there is no other sanctuary for me. I would warn the timid, of love stand free, For in love there is naught to be found but anguish and loss. It is only the brave that willingly pay this cost. Pity to the ears, that do not hear your voice. Pity to the eyes, that cannot see your face. Pity to the feet, that do not know their place.
I have learned this song by singing it. I have learned this prayer by saying it. I have learned this path by walking it. I have felt this love by wanting it. This day. THIS DAY! I give myself to this love Because I know no other way.... "Live free of love, for its very peace is anguish; Its beginning is pain, its end is death." Bahรก'u'llรกh
Learning How to Leave I learned how to walk in your sight And I learned how to laugh and run, But no one taught me how to leave. Love me this moment like I am gone, Some cold morning, I will be. Every candle burns itself away. I have seen the land burn to ash And the trees disappear in smoke, Beautiful, sensual tendrils of smoke.... I see you shine in the candle light I see your wisps of delicate beauty, And I want to envelope you. I looked so hard for you, There is nothing as beautiful as your light, Even its shadow seduces me. And the whisper that blows out the candle Still leaves a welcoming light on, to draw you nearer.... But no one teaches you how to leave.
Tree Across the River There is a tree that reaches across the river It’s branches bend and strain to reach the other side. I worship the steadfastness of the tree And its faithful dedication to light. I see beauty in the simplest things, The sensual curve of a branch.... The sonorous sound of the wind Blowing through tree leaves. But if you only find faith in beauty, Ugliness will rob you of joy. These seeds fall from my limbs And from them birds fly to the sky. I am a tree reaching for the light On the other side of the river.
Remember Me to the Wind I am held above in the arms of the sky And I lay on clouds that pass you by. Remember me then to the wind... And I will wrap my soul around your heart and fill you with grace, like alms placed in a beggar’s bowl. I will build a fire On the mountain spire To signal my return to you. And I will build a kingdom to come, A kingdom to come. The whispered prayer brings peace to me As you too bring peace to me, peace to me. I think we two just might agree That there isn't a place here for me. So, in the morning as you pray Remember me to the wind And bring peace to the sky Peace to the sky, As I pass you by.
Oceans of Ink While I lay sleeping, billows and currents of ink Swirled about me. Enveloped in a vaporous mist, tendrils of ink, Left their tracings upon my skin. You wrote me a love letter telling me we had to be separated, So that the ink of our love could flow once again. High above us, mountain streams rush towards reunion with the river, they must be separated before they can be reunited. The meaning of life is lost when we only read our own words, Sing our own songs, or tell our own stories. We have to break, before we can be healed. Souls must fly home, before they can be quickened. Your pen moves, the ink flows, and the words They fly into my heart and become my prayer.
When the ink of your pen touches my skin I become a book of holiness. Wandering in search of you, I read aloud the words you have inscribed upon this living scroll. In the hope that these most Holy ‘syllables and sounds’ will attract your attention to my remembrance. Your pen has written upon us your living book, the story of your love for us, And oceans of ink have surged within us. This is the meaning of the Word of God, it is the source, That gives life to all creation and creatures.
Kiss the Sky I gave up searching for myself, And instead began looking for God in others. That is when I found myself. I cannot stare at the sun, But I adore the light in your eyes, And the radiance of your face. I have learned to walk on the earth As I would walk on water. Gently, and with hope. When I fly up into the clouds, My wings will kiss the sky. Only true lovers can do this.
Shackles of Seasons If this day a flower wrapped around my leg And climbed up to kiss me I would know it is spring; Compared to a woman’s kiss, this would be pure bliss. My words are not answers, They were never meant to be. Although I hope they will free you From the shackles of seasons, And hold you up to the sky. Where you go from there Is entirely up to you, But I would recommend Sacrificing yourself to the rain, Who are you to be remembered? “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven; A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away…” The Christian Bible, Ecclesiastes 3
My Breath This Moment Wandering lost in a sea of mist My breath this moment pauses, And my heart it skips a beat, To wonder when we separate Where again are we to meet? Beauty puts on a half sad smile Not certain of its place, Festooned across your heart, Hanging dearly on your face, Slowly fading then, leaving not a trace. Your beauty eclipsed a thousand suns And melted ten thousand moons. My breath this moment pauses, While my tattered heart is strewn In holy pieces, impenetrable as runes.
The Quality of the Light The quality of the light Does not dim in the giving. Reflected from the heart, It is ever-glowing and radiant. Light once bestowed, Seeks out its intended And gently washes Across the face, Illuminating the soul And beaming from the eyes. I seek that ineffable quality of light That is both visible and invisible, Near to me and far away from me, Within me, and all around me. That permeates every living thing And being. All that matters is the quality of light,
That which you receive, And that which you give. “Strive, therefore to create love in the hearts in order that they may become glowing and radiant. When the love of God is established, everything else will be realized.” ` Abdu'l-Bahá
About the author Dr. Gregory T. Lawton is an author of many books, most of them in the area of health science, but also in the genre of Asian martial arts, philosophy, poetry, and prose. Dr. Lawton is a passionate award-winning artist and photographer who finds his artistic and creative inspiration in nature, and who frequently attributes the source of his images and writing to the 19th century Persian Prophet, Bahá’u’lláh, the founder of the Baha’i Faith, and the 13th century Persian poet and Sufi Mystic Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī. Dr. Lawton has been a member of the Baha’i Faith since 1970 and embraces the Faith’s principles related to the promotion of world unity and peace. Dr. Gregory T. Lawton has studied and trained in Asian religion, philosophy and martial arts such as Aikido, Jujitsu, Kenpo, and Tai Chi Chuan. Dr. Lawton’s most noted Asian martial art instructor was Professor Huo Chi-Kwang. Professor Huo was a renowned Chinese scholar, artist, and calligrapher who served as Taiwan's ambassador to the Vatican and France, and he was a friend of Pablo Picasso.
SOUL OF THE NIGHT SKY Soul of the Night Sky (Draft), Copyright 2019 Dr. Gregory T. Lawton All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from Gregory T. Lawton. Muyblue Productions 2040 Raybrook Street, SE Suite 104 Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546 616-285-9999 Writing, Art and Design – Dr. Gregory T. Lawton