Poetry of transformation

Years ago out of the blue, my sweet fingers started writing poems on my phone,
they kept coming, mostly throughout the toughest times, as I was walking through the middle of hells and heavens.
There are dozens of them, coming into books of poetry and Divine wisdom in some near future. Some I added here for your entertainment
and probably keep adding or changing once in and while, If they speak to you, write and ask me, I have them in some organized sharable form.

Mysticism

The actual meaning of the word mysticism,
can only be realised at the end of the worlds,
where ascending  human and descending God meet,
in total amazement at each other’s fragrance,


admiring, and taking time to get used
with living under one roof.

Blessed this body feels,
little scared even too,
because there are now two hearts to hold,
and one breath to breathe in both.

The meaning of the One:
birds fly towards the sun.

~ Seram

too many Words

We have too many words
and too little of understanding,
about reality of life.

If we could only see,
how all those words,
misslead and confuse,

We’d stop speaking and
beyond that - thinking.
We just refuse to see.

Stubborn is that human will,
blind and deaf aswell.
Just recreating itself its own hell.

All those constructs of the mind,
history looping itself to future
again and again.

Break out, dear one,
let go of your need to belive,
those words that are carried in your head,

they are here just misslead,
maya in form, playing its game.
Step out, claim you throne!

In heart, You’ll find,
you never lead the life,
and never will,

And your thoughts ....
They are just a clever cell,
to keep you entertained
as you walk through human plane.

~ Seram

Here

When I´m here,
gratitude is here,
for everything that is,
for all that supports,

that vast endless abundance,
I consider as myself …

for timeline,
that has brought me
to this very moment,
for souls, who have
become dear,

for places that have crawled
under my skin
and for this wonderful
amazing body,
that still embraces me,
despite my attention
deficit.

Right here, where is gratefulness,
is the dance of love and eternity,
melting into one,

and me,
simply fading into
endless Grace
of One.

~ Seram

Trust

What is else there
to trust the life
to surrender without conditions
at the feet of
the great mystery unfolding

what is for us to know,
when rivers of life flow deeper
than the understanding
of a human mind can reach

become still; we can
and choose so
stop arguing with what is
and simply be.

Like a tree,
in humble silence,
stretching to the skies
and playing with the winds.

~ Seram

The paradox of freedom

In our ceaseless search for self,
We seek the elusive taste of freedom,
Yet fail to see the truth:
We do not transform into another,
but become more deeply ourselves.

Why yearn to glimpse the future's face,
or chart the course ahead?
The unknown holds infinite possibilities,
Far beyond your imagination.

In your dreams of liberation,
do you not construct new cages?
Is true freedom not boundless,
a dance of trust and expansion?

Tomorrow's uncertainty:
a blank canvas for a life extraordinary,
a grand surprise waiting to unfold.

Can freedom bear a price
In a world where all is commodified?
Or does it transcend such earthly concerns?

We rummage through warehouses
of haunted memories,
chasing a freedom the soul craves,
yet the mind struggles to grasp.

Is freedom, not a fleeting dream,
but a knowing deep within?
Can one truly dream of liberty
without tasting its reality?

Perhaps the very idea of freedom
is the only true reality,

And the rest – a mirage sold by the world.
A belief in freedom...
Yet still just a dream?

Time weaves its tapestry,
shaping fears into opinions,
questioning the very essence
of being and freedom itself.

Are you truly free?

A dream is a decision made,
and once shared, it sets in motion
an irreversible journey.

The paths we start but leave unfinished
become prayers whispered to the universe,
not to be taken lightly.

If you've glimpsed the possibility
and felt the stirring of a dream,
cast aside your myriad excuses;
They lead to barren lands.


Heed only the whispers of your heart.
For, in the end, freedom is not found,
but created in each moment's choice,
a perpetual becoming of the self.

~ Seram