From no-thing

From no-thing do you come?
Not did, for did is burned
But do, as in a breath
Drawn in and then returned

From no-where do you come?
Not where, for where
Would fix the place
From which you show
your laughing face

From no-when do you come?
For when would break the flow
Into before and after glow
And birth begin a tale
That only times my watch of you
Not whence, but hence…
The life unfolds


And am I not as you
But eyed?
My skin your petal’s blush
Against the sky
And thus I see we never died
Nor will, nor can
Within this son of Man
Who waits within
The coming of a higher kin

©Stephen Tanham 2021

Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye, a journey through the forest of personality to the dawn of Being.

http://www.thesilenteye.co.uk and http://www.suningemini.blog

Days of Sky

When days roll, heavy hearted, by

And dusk has turned a darker hue

Where breathing’s choked and not so free

I rest my back on bark of old ash tree

And whisper words into electric blue

Discovering solace in the sky

©Stephen Tanham

Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye, a journey through the forest of personality to the dawn of Being.

Menorah?…

Hanukkah Menorah Jewish Judaica Israel Vintage Brass Chanukah ...

Menorah as Chalice

*

… The Book of Revelation can be described

as a book of arcane symbolism.

*

It seems to me astonishing that such a work should have been

accepted into the recommended canon when so many

other far less controversial texts are regarded as apocryphal –

this word which now has connotations of spuriousness or falsity

is derived from the Greek word for ‘hidden’ –

Apocryphal works, then, can be regarded

as those books which possess hidden wisdom.

*

It will be useful to consider the opening few paragraphs

of Revelation and compare them to Daniel’s vision of Michael

which we looked at in earlier posts

*

“It was on the island of Patmos.

I was meditating on the seventh day

when I heard behind me a voice as of many waters,

“I am the beginning and end, first and the last.”

I turned to see who it was that spoke,

and I saw a figure resembling the Son of Man.

He was standing in the middle of seven golden candlesticks.

His beard and his hair were like white wool.

His eyes were flames of fire.

His countenance was bright, as the sun when it shines at its height.

He was clothed in a long white robe.

About his breast went a golden girdle.

In his right hand he held seven stars.

His words rang out of his mouth clearly

with the poignancy of a double-edged sword:

“I am he that lives and was dead.

I possess the keys to death and hell.

I shall live forever more.”

I fell down at his feet and they were like fine-brass forged in a furnace.

He laid his hands upon me, “You must write down all you see in a book,

and send it to the Seven Churches of Asia.

Let all the churches know that I am he who searches

the reins of the heart and gives to every one, according to their works.

Tell them to remember from whence they have fallen,

to return to their first love lest I come upon them like a thief

and remove their candlestick from its place,

thus speaks the ‘Amen’: ‘I know your works, I know that you have a name,

I know that you live, and yet, you are as the dead!'”

*

It might be difficult for St Michael to be described as the,

‘one who is living but was dead’, but

he could certainly lay claim to being regarded as

‘the first and the last’ and also as possessing,

‘the keys to death and hell’…

*

In the Book of Daniel, we may recall,

St Michael was described as a Great Prince,

as a Chief Prince, and as Daniel’s Prince.

Harlequin Solstice

Harlequin Solstice

St John Kin

A picture in the fading sun

A race of fingers, digits

Of Solstice long earned

Short departed

How little

How sadly

You are understood

Your music the struggle

Of madness

Made harmony

Until this moment

When kings detach your strings

When single song

Descends

Towards the dark arms

But brighter eyes

Of St Stephen

©Stephen Tanham

Two for the Solstice

Two poems for the coming Solstice.

The first is The Iron Hand from Barbara Walsh, who is in the process of establishing her own WordPress site:

The Iron Hand

The iron-hard earth imprisons life below

Cold darkness, gripping life that glows

But not to conquer or destroy;

That life now sleeping waits to grow

Till winter’s touch so cold yet needed.

Releases gentle fingers new to spring’s caress

Waves goodbye to winter’s tending

Starts the cycle never ending

©Barbara Walsh

And one from me…Dark Solstice

Dark Solstice

If I had different eyes

That shone a bolder hue

I’d see the cycle of the year

As a single act surrounding you

If I had larger ears

For a wider range of sound

I’d teach you of the double chord

St Stephen and St John resound

If I had a bigger heart

That could hold both death and light

I would raise your gaze to the brightest day

Beyond this cold December night

©️Stephen Tanham


Stephen Tanham is a director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit organisation that helps people find a personal path to a deeper place within their internal and external lives.

The Silent Eye provides home-based, practical courses which are low-cost and personally supervised. The course materials and corresponding supervision are provided month by month without further commitment.

Steve’s personal blog, Sun in Gemini, is at stevetanham.wordpress.com.

You’ll find friends, poetry, literature and photography there…and some great guest posts on related topics.

For fifty years I sought you…

For fifty years I sought you

Beneath an ashen tree

And when at last I caught you

You were hiding behind me

What jests your lips had whispered

As I darted too and fro

Till I lay down at the wayside

With nowhere else to go

Quiet, your fingers touched me

Bidding stillness in their grace

Made soft with love the journey

By turning round the face

The night of sight was ended

From this head that wore a frown

And the throne of Self lay open

As your palms displayed a crown

Now my tiny kingdom’s hidden

Beneath a starry sky

But my eyes drink light forever

As the opening days roll by

For fifty years I sought you

Beneath an ashen tree

And when at last I caught you

You were smiling back at Me

©Stephen Tanham

Dedicated to Rumi, who lit the way…