Poem: Advocate

Let this idea be your purchase.
Wealth beyond.
An advocate for you,
the holy spirit,
the dove doth descend,
into the soul, to guide you.
To be with you.
Listen, be still,
shut off the mind
close the maw tight,
You are not wrong nor right,
bathed in the light, of reason,
and just listen,
(be receptive) to the logos
(the order of things, the universal structure),
the sound which creates/instructs our form(s)
our substance, and all that emanates,
That which God creates.
The sound is not only Word,
but solemn communication (message, prayer),
it is seen, watched (closely observed)
that frequency and vibration instructs the loose tossed disorganized material
(dark matter, webbing once thought useless)
known as chaos, framed by illusive language,
there, it finds you
casting your translucent line into the COSMOS like a fisherman
(fishers of men)
your feet precariously set upon a thin “balancing-act” wire
from the Iron Age
feeling the edges of the unknown
(the precipice, exposed, your cover blown)
describing and defining one’s intent,
from both caring and malignant hand(s),
and what question(s) of care belongs there,
living in the malleable metal skin of human kind,
need I remind,
not a one in its purest form on EARTH
– WE all are students of the Universe,
until we reach that place we started from.

Understand the Law Of Separation
within the nature of expansion,
while some who go forward may not survive
in the physical sense, in space and time,
like cells parsing
a truth we dispense
(however no one really dies;
nay, we are ALL eternal beings),
others at their side will,
or those who follow will,
meet some kind of end,
some final resolution,
dust to be reused
(yet, death does not bring a chill,
please be wise:
go ahead and swallow the red pill)
however required
if it occurs in 100 years, or 1,000 as nature demands,
but always KNOW the truth endures. Always.

Also under STAND the LAW of LOVE (or non-separation),
which is the path of least resistance,
which allows intent to flow unbound,
from mouth to ear (everything you plan to hear), the speed of sound,
It is the fuel in everything living,
for everything,
and note that everything is living.
So, ask what time you are giving.

Therefore, in trials, from cradle to grave,
we must lose fear, be brave,
in any case,
our souls to save,
lest we fall
let our Advocate (with connections to heart) manage troubling times,
so we may continue our harrowing (heavenly winding wayward like Kundalini) climbs.

Published by: frankmarquezwritings

I'm a writer, and have been for most of my adult life. Without making this sound like a resume, I wrote creatively in college, dabbling in poetry, short stories and play writing. Later, I became a journalist, public affairs specialist, copy editor and eventually a guy who ran his own newspaper. Now, I'm back to letting my imagination run wild in some new creations including a science-fiction novel. Somehow, I also managed to teach English to high school kids, and roam the battlefields of Afghanistan as a field historian. Field historian may be a misnomer considering all I did was write abstracts summarizing military unit profiles and missions that included hundreds of interviews of troops and contractors in combat. I grew up in a small town called Gering, Nebraska, before escaping to Pomona, California, where I spent my last two years of high school, graduating from Ganesha High School in 1983. I have a Bachelors in English from the University of La Verne (1987), and a Masters in Education from UNLV (2007). In between, I worked for government - the Army and TSA. I served tours in Panama, D.C., and Tokyo, all thanks to a teacher who encouraged me to see the world before I settled down. As hobbies, I run, hike and bicycle long distances. I have also been known to surf and ski. I now live in my hometown after moving back in June 2015. I get to see family on a regular basis, breath fresh air, and not have to ride the D.C. metro or get stuck in traffic. In fact, I ride my bicycle whenever I can. I'm happily married to my wife Lisa, and we watch over a pack of fur babies, our dog Charley, and three cats Spike, Bootsy, and Franky (his shelter name). If you should ever visit me in west Nebraska, be prepared to feast your eyes on paradise.

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