tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307992082011-11-27T20:17:56.407-05:00Fairytales and Physics in this magic lamp I tuck underneath my arm and, with an ordinary charm, I make my way through this enchanted world.zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.comBlogger401100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-67657869724006558772009-12-12T17:38:00.003-05:002009-12-12T19:47:19.587-05:00

wheels within wheels lies within truths truths within lies good intentions mixed with fear create a sticky sneaky web the power suckers and the fact seekers alike get stuck on it beneficial endeavors become corrupted because human hearts still hold onto forms and fear the loss of control but the original pure knowledge is incorruptible it shines golden for those who search for it instead

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-49840956706916209082009-10-03T10:49:00.002-04:002009-12-12T17:45:30.026-05:00

Imagination is at the station Only a few are getting on Imagination transportation Don't get off until you're home

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-25102591895529731622009-10-01T13:07:00.003-04:002009-12-12T17:48:50.665-05:00

     It's always stories. Life is always stories. In the end, no one cares about "just the facts, m'am", unless the facts sound like a story, leading you somewhere.      It's always stories. When someone asks "What's the meaning of my life? or "Who am I?" -- they mean "What is my Story? Where am I in it now? What makes it worth the telling? Is anyone else hearing it? Is anyone listening?"  Maybe

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-25895387641192171762009-09-02T09:31:00.006-04:002009-12-12T17:51:44.723-05:00

Let Love invade their hearts with sorrow for their deeds of hate; For the pain they have spitefully or coolly inflicted, Let them perceive how broken and diseased they have become. Let the veil be lifted from their eyes. Let their knees kneel under the weight of this terrible understanding, beneath the quake that releases the sobs of their remorse; So that even these beings can be healed, And see

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-84792077579340117722009-07-25T10:44:00.004-04:002009-12-12T17:53:29.556-05:00

Come, let's put on our eyes of love; I think we have a few pairs, Somewhere. There's something to see, trapped between the layers of their lives, What you do not expect to recognize -- The treasure,The golden light, The greatness and the beauty and the sweetness andEverything we hope to findIn Paradise. They never seem to see it, no,They don't really believe in it --Their innocense,Living out a

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-62001133138165310282009-07-15T04:52:00.002-04:002009-12-12T17:55:47.101-05:00

at the most random times it occurs to me how transcendently happy i am, how this life, everything, is like a -- an intriguing mystical funny dangerous tale i wake up and see it so much bigger and stimulating than any story we concoct in our heads and put on a screen it's such a long and winding and insane road with bridges and spirals and the treasure that is found and lost over and over and

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-28404081839142601132009-07-11T11:29:00.005-04:002009-12-12T17:58:25.957-05:00

last night I saw the Fields of Light shimmering through the shivering night felt the fingertips of grace touch the teardrop on my face saw the brush of a wand'ring saint caress my soul with his shadowey paint so i could stare into the lights and see the patterns of their flights open mouthing to the wind that filled me up to fly again

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-23719964701041314012009-07-10T09:26:00.004-04:002009-12-12T18:01:19.183-05:00

Walking down a dusty road Beside the everyday people, You saw their despair and reached out your hand. They followed you for a while, and you healed their diseases -- Walking down a dusty road, A dusty road. When you spoke of a better way, The way of Truth, They turned away from you and left, empty-handed. You stood there holding life in your hand, And they went walking down a dusty road With

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-76905247362807991162009-07-09T13:03:00.003-04:002009-12-12T18:03:07.180-05:00

You all fit comfortably into the circle of my arms. When I really see your heart, you fit lovingly into mine. I take a step back to where your truth can be seen, not just my reactions to your exterior and surface vibes. Benevolent indulgence, appreciation and non-judgement enable true clear sight and positive vision.

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-91703172860758924012009-07-02T20:28:00.004-04:002009-12-12T18:07:07.903-05:00

To know that we are the ones moving toward you Not you toward us --Does it really matter?In the end it is the same.We see you appear,Your topmost arc emerging from the misty horizon.Our heart beats jump to the power of your first rays.Alive.

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-71006996007343872012009-06-30T18:00:00.004-04:002009-12-12T18:14:26.355-05:00

All the treasures I touched have turned to dust. Weights drag me back toward the drowning pool with every step. A heavy mystery works against me. This place has no meaning, no feeling of home or belonging. A stranger looks back at me from a mirror before glancing to the side. Did I stop somewhere along the way as my life went on without me? I feel the weights. I feel the weights. Circles of hell

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-41789610410230362009-05-27T19:28:00.006-04:002009-12-12T18:18:47.896-05:00

Oh ship searching for harbor in a dark and stormy sea-- Look to me, Look to me. My foundation firm in rock and soil, connecting each new stone secure, along the spiral to the stars i rise-- all to shine the light, all to shine the light. The beam slices through the darkness. The harbor waits. Your heart is reaching out to the lighthouse. Hear the crashing waves from the safety of the shore as

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-56213757258262779992009-05-06T11:48:00.006-04:002009-12-12T18:21:54.091-05:00

I went down to the shop of horrors. Crazy mirrors showed me everything. Spent all my tickets on reflections - Nothing scarier than what I saw that day. Gathering all these poor Mis-Shapens, I stuffed them into a grocery bag. Tangled whispers pleading, muttering - I take them so they cannot follow. Along the way more mirrors leered. I wonder how much more can fit. I cannot leave this lot behind,

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-89789159225752845262009-02-07T09:56:00.004-05:002009-12-12T18:27:14.981-05:00

There's a brightness ahead, and we don't see exactly what it is;But we know there's a Transformation. Structures behind us are falling, Falling as we run. We sleep under the moon Stars are calling to us

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-6652853621463534702009-01-10T10:42:00.004-05:002009-12-12T18:28:59.131-05:00

Her lids and limbs were heavy as she trudged the slope on tired feet.If only she could reach the Tree. In It's shade, she would lie down at last, and cool blossoms would rest lightly on her closed eylids.And sleep, sleep would come and take her to that other place.From THOUGHTS DURING CHURCH SERVICE, written on the program note sheet, 9/14/1987.

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-16193269590859674052009-01-05T19:36:00.010-05:002009-12-12T18:31:19.540-05:00

I know I could find a way out of here If I could turn, If I could move In the direction of the sky. how you fear mehow you can never hear mehow you tryto turn away from the skyI was Walking down the City streets. I did not know what I would meet, But I Was so Real.I was so real.I walk with the stars.I walk with the sun.I feel So Real.How do I sustain this Real?oh, turn around.turn around.I know I

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-56952131392751713362009-01-02T06:54:00.005-05:002009-01-02T08:32:23.684-05:00

If you don't believe In your most golden thoughts Of what life should really be,Then who will make it be?No one but you.No one but you Can do the work that you can do.Living out your days,Dripping Time from a bottle,Drops more precious than gold,Oiling the wheels Of the machine that enslaves you. Oh Children of the Earth,Children of the Earth,Children of the Earth,Remember.Remember.If you do not

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-1231456788567479472009-01-01T14:44:00.001-05:002009-01-01T14:46:21.391-05:00

unfold yourself slowly and completely leisurely and attentively unfold yourself

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-83641616051875532502008-12-27T07:10:00.001-05:002008-12-27T07:14:54.701-05:00

this is the day you can riselift your wings and falldown below winds will blowtrees will go downabove the storm the cold is warmthe fall is flight

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-42810074489132542272008-12-24T08:46:00.003-05:002008-12-24T09:02:48.502-05:00

When we participate in this life, we participate in the cycles and conflicts to find the resolutions and the harmonies. Opposites and oppositions magnetize and repel, creating the circles and setting them into motion.Ever widening these circles and reaching higher, we create the spirals, storms which may destroy us or raise us to transcendence. Even as we spin in the apparent chaos of the dance

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-73835484909137698042008-12-21T19:29:00.004-05:002008-12-23T07:32:54.826-05:00

keeper of the mysterypurified soulsilence of eternityone and wholebalancing the energieson a stairway to the starsmother mother maryholding all our dreams in your arms

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-53214944077883094452008-12-20T12:41:00.005-05:002009-05-06T13:03:16.331-04:00

For the wind that blows the trees outside my window, For the rain that falls in the coldest drops on the dry brown leaves,For the preciousness of every moment,for the silence and the shadows,for the ever-changing scene, for the ever-living dream inside my heart -I thank youfor my life.

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-57776738482548175662008-12-18T06:28:00.002-05:002008-12-18T06:33:02.669-05:00

He wanted his picture made with his hands lifted and his face thrown backThe falling snow lifted our hearts and made our faces smileSomething unexpected and rare in these partssomehow informing our spirits that the scenery really can change and the unexpected lovely things can still occureven nowmaking us feel like childrenone cannot hug a snowflakeso he holds out his arms to the sky from which

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-18779973759458556402008-12-17T07:02:00.004-05:002008-12-17T07:08:02.969-05:00

I think it's kinda interesting in the coincidental/synchronistic sort of way that I posted a poem that involved having no shoes on my feet and Bush was getting 2 shoes thrown at him in Iraq. (see Dec. 13 post)

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-52087290834278369922008-12-13T07:41:00.003-05:002008-12-13T07:53:09.364-05:00

for a long time Itravelled down a dusty roadwith no shoes on my feetand no hat upon my head and i wondered whyi had to carry such a loadthrough the cold and the heatand no hat upon my head so i gazed at the skywhere the sunset glowedwith no shoes on my feetand this is what i said i sure hate to dietravelling down a dusty roadbut i've only seen defeatand my heart is full of dread

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-69209173122633936072008-12-01T23:29:00.001-05:002008-12-01T23:32:54.397-05:00

Every time I think that I am dead and goneI see myself rising from a pit of bones.So unexpected, this ghost of another day--I had forgotten that it feels this way.So many flavors,and textures beneath the words,expressions and gesturesshaping the world--See them with joy,see them with laughter,Feel their weariness as they follow after all the disguises of Emptiness.A bird cries across the ocean of

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-64234303153262205352008-08-02T17:11:00.004-04:002008-08-02T17:18:10.112-04:00

one in her bellyone in her armsone held tightly by the handfour souls cross the busy street as oneno time for feeling lonelyno time for feeling anything but the strength she must always findfor holding head high, back straight, and little hands tightholding onto nickels and dimesholding onto sanity and personal pride for one more daysherry fraley, 2000

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-5082196174785794792008-08-01T05:17:00.002-04:002008-08-01T05:29:06.595-04:00

crazy thoughts fill your headyou think it's too late for you nowyou've tried and tried againonly to fall short every timeone more timeyou step up to the starting lineone more tryyou want to have it allyou'll never settle for something lessthan everything you see in glimpseslike a magnet drawing youeven pulling you up from underneath endless layersdark and heavy upon youcrazy winds are filling

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-78971467674771168592008-07-31T23:35:00.003-04:002008-07-31T23:42:36.765-04:00

You are so open and so free, so ready for the love that comes your way. Wherever it may come from, you recognize it, and you embrace it without trapping it. Each moment is leaned into with wondering eyes and eager mind and open heart. You are the new human, lower lows and higher highs contained in one invincible sanity.Thoughts inspired by Captain Jack Harkness and The Doctor

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-73098819880757102002008-07-31T17:23:00.009-04:002008-08-02T10:34:41.434-04:00

Oh the Hermit and the FoolWalk through the moonlit nightAnd the hermit doesn’t see the fool is thereHe finds a lovely spotA mossy little clearingSets his lantern down upon the dewy groundAnd walks the circle on the edge of the lightHead bowed just a littleEyes half closedA very gentle bounce in the kneesAnd a very slight tap with his staff on the earthAs he trances to the edges of the universeAnd

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-57676417425750230512008-01-25T16:15:00.000-05:002008-01-25T16:17:42.886-05:00

Wisdom enduring over lifetimesSpring forth freely nowIn laughterIn tearsAnd the powerful silenceThe sparkle of lightThe opaque nightAre joined in your soulPour yourself forth freelyInto the lonely crevices of our tortured landscapesInto our dried up seabeds you flowReminding us of lush EdenStill alive just beneath the barren crustOh flow now from yourselfAnd help us rememberAs we open our thirsty

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-3890169286799622762007-12-17T17:09:00.000-05:002007-12-17T17:15:49.613-05:00

ShoppingShiny streets in a wet metro nightAnother shopping townMovies houses and mallsConstruction banners and coffee shopsRestaurants by the scoreAll you can eatAnd much much moreBlah blah blahEven as we scurry about the suburban surfaceOur souls have frozen into waitingFor a time when this will all make senseWhen corners will be neat and secureAnd bundles will be laid out brightly and

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-41689365496161197662007-07-07T17:31:00.000-04:002007-07-07T17:42:56.014-04:00

Let the people in a free land learn the lessons of freedom.Let the people in this country be truly free.We must pray for the impossible.Let the leaders of the people lead the people down a new road.Let the eyes of the leaders truly see.We must pray for the impossible.Let them see that the old games are insane.They have no place in this New World.Clear the slate and start again;Let us all see the

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-39912276085705467372007-04-27T12:58:00.002-04:002008-08-02T14:37:12.085-04:00

Monsters that haunted meI ceased to fightFierce holds loosenedMalicious lights in raging eyes dimmedGutteral rumblings and restless growlsWere assuaged by great gulps of silence.Accusers who sat in judgementI ceased to debateRinsed the grime of their documents from my handsand walked out into the Lovelinessbreathing earth and drinking sky.Those old courtrooms held no jurisdictionOver the fate of

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-86019858578502246182007-03-28T08:55:00.000-04:002007-04-28T12:19:58.133-04:00

If all the world’s a stage,Let us not limit the parts we play.Our masks will be our liberation.You look at me and think you know me.I see your face, so familiar, and ask no questions.These faces hide us behind their settled arrangementsWhile drawers of masks lie in swirling silencesAwaiting turns to unlock our hidden treasures.In our secret chambers before our moonlit mirrorsWe try them

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-72521811820167308802007-03-09T08:57:00.000-05:002007-04-06T07:21:18.121-04:00

I get impatient with those bloggers who start out a new blog entry (sometimes almost every new entry) with something like, "Well it's been a long time since my last entry. Sorry, I've been having computer problems and midterms and a midlife crisis and final exams and dramas in my personal life, etc...." It's so inane, isn't it? Not to mention a waste of the reader's time. You just want to say, "

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-1154453773169741292006-08-01T13:11:00.000-04:002007-03-22T12:17:03.923-04:00

Our night without you so darkOur waters unmoved by tidal breathsWaxing and waning womb gone from our skyIf you were set freeThrall of EarthEnthralling, in turn, the Earth and her childrenShe can hide no surface from your faceWhile you show only your face to HerYou are Mystery embodiedPulling desire from our hearts in silvery threadsGrowing heavy with promiseAnd shrinking to a sliver of

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-1152635841269776072006-07-11T12:32:00.000-04:002007-04-28T12:27:56.547-04:00

by Sherry FraleyI know a secret, and it could change everything.I was looking out the window and suddenly remembered that I knew this secret. But it has no words.It’s something like eternal life, or just being born but being conscious of everything.It’s like loving your enemy.It’s like shaking hands with Death across a great ocean.But it’s not these things exactly. It’s the hidden thing that

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-1152623036430940672006-07-11T08:00:00.000-04:002007-04-28T12:29:35.011-04:00

"Everybody out there,This is what we're learning:We all need to listen,Listen to our True Voice." The hardest part of the day can be getting out of bed, especially if you have already beaten yourself up. This morning when I woke, guess who else was already awake. Yep. My Inner Critic (IC). Pointing out all the things I need to do, the things I should have already done, and the people in my life

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30799208.post-1152297388397574232006-07-07T17:12:00.000-04:002007-04-06T17:53:21.650-04:00

Just another day in the worldLooking out my blind-slitted office window on the muggy July greennessHere in the Atlanta suburbsWhere I never thought I'd be this longLife does take some twists, doesn't it? Like a winding moutain path, it dips and climbs, too.I miss winding moutain paths. It's time to go back to the Smokies. I haven't been to the Smokies since 30 pounds ago. Hmm. I should retrace

zoetreehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021623462730094875noreply@blogger.com0