Blessed Be the Day! (Medical Marijuana and The Neo-Amish Movement)

fairy spirit path
menehune
rainbow calling
drawn poem pear

sound patch wilding
dandy honey wind
jeans and water
time of the Laugh in the cold Shed

the secret message is
bovineum bronco's
book of leaves, outsprawled page
crazy people do this thing they call sometimes read

people who have spent their entire life looking at little etches
and noticing patterns windows, where plants pour through
even pictures can be alive, even our dreams, the fairies
know the way, to unwind and share with time
it is divine another calling chime
in stories theres wisdom, in keeping them true
say the days of the week as they pass quiet haikus
collect in the afternoon rain fall still drying
little puddles shallow sad feeling, smiles ripple
like the stones you used to skip
all the clouds and moments now what is it?

some strange dellapogated game, oh life, you strange reflector
our souls melt, in the flower, i seek to make my body whole again
i seek to find the world which can hear still
can a ray of sunlight catch a rainbow and revive a lost soul?
the much of it is pure gnosis, timeless places
open fields descriptions, living in these visions
our groups our momentary relations in a spirit of doing
bless it all

as much as we hide and our humors collide, as much as we shy from the place in strange tides
now our days come to be complete whether in the deepest wood or upon the street
equanimity you have spoken, all the voices through every open ear i ring in, i am not language, or the sophia, i am simple sound, simply saying, simple rounds and a life of praying
simply laying in a field, thoughts shed like dandelion fuzz landing here and there
these are the paths of our lives, sometimes we are the wind, sometimes we are the daisy

she dances, the goddess, she dances in the elements like a crazy flaking moon...
living and dying and laughing at it all, truest benevolent warrior, most loving sun touched mother of gypsies
guardian protecting all by unseen means, priestess of the sun, who by mystic simplicity
is within us all

i follow no calendars, nor do i recognize the times, with this we knew we were friends
on the beaches drunk or acting like it, washing away in the waves...

something always gets in me out there, something i forget about life

we eat and we go on, love resonates through all things, perhaps it is just the way of this wounded healer, though the wound is not perpetual, and the healing is the health which comes from WANTI YEAH!!

theres too much happening right now to think about the past, somehow everything is beautiful and vast.. random aspects flew at this sense of me-ness through some strange void, oddly everything is peaceful, everything is God
at this moment its all evened out, its emptied out as if to a true clearing from the thorns

gazing out at the open sky once more, its Anu giving a thumbs up, its almost too much so beautiful
echoing, the rabbits are prancing through the field

everything is pristine, so vast, the sea of unknown infinities

a stream of togetherness catches me, we're like whales swimming in a vast ocean, i know its a truth thats deep down because my friends spoken of it to me before

its a light through the clouds, its a strange resolution in the fertile parts of the soul, growing again, again happy wood and blessed things, simple empty dreamlike things of contentment, throughout all actuality, and the skies are blessed and the beings and devas go on and on, shimmering transforming the soul and the center laughing through it all, and strange reversals at those who would try and put me together because i am forever broken this is my mystery, and yet theyve gotten fire through the brokenness, alchemists lovers philosophers working from the brokenness, working with the cairns, the wheels of the soul, in ways randomly linking, because they are made of my divine weaving i am more than the trees but you may find me there, and find me in unharming things, there is wisdom, where there is suffering there is ignorance, but where truth is upheld as appropiate, even ultimate truth, the path is straight, all things have this blessing and come forth in true beauty, all peoples, and all worlds, we pass along to eachother upon a great tree river, the travellers are blessed ones, though they are just like us, unknowingly they bring the balance and are the game of the universe, we smile in our little cozy homes and rock away, free as we shall be in the coming of the day

I love it all I love the sunshine, I love this body, I love the joke in everything, I love the art and the things in peoples dreams I love the park and the grass and everything, and I love you, I love it all, it all stirs me up it all breaks everything away, it seems strangely clear, light shining in, a strange clear spirit, not about anything, language made to avoid it, to avoid it, funny taoist wanderings
wonderings
funny things, the arks of the sun and the echoes of the days each day is a poem calling to an aspect of my completeness
which is unending, you are everything, you rend me together, light in the first form, light which innocently made this, in accidents, in sputters, in leaps and realized it seemed to stick, there was some resonance to it, though it happened on its own, later on both sides, there were ones who believed they had done it, they had specific reasons, they had found the points where it had began to grow, and disguised came through on the other side, as the spirits, enlightened, enchanted bringing good cheer and love, we all fade away but we build back again, in it all is the spirit of the soma, rising again, getting better, the bug songs, the turning of the seasons, sacred movements showing the truth of all, bringing out something which cannot fall, all kings and queens fade to nothing all things bow away, and know selflessness, suspended living in ecstasy, living merely as shadows, annexed by the great one, the great unity, when its in your area spinning like a peaceful storm sometimes only one feels it and cries out of him or hear, across the expanses of the resting and unwary cosmos soon to be awakened, give me the spoons and the sticks and we'll build a fire or something again near the river, yeah.

SPIRIT OF EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLESSED BE THE DAY!!!

we partook of the ness then, it was a blessed gathering, twas the original light of the world there, I was really happy, just content
everything, it was beautiful, incredibly beautiful

it was like being home, forever, perhaps home.. well Huuuuuuu Ommmmmmmmmmmmm!

Don't let them ever let you think its not these specific ones, these specific candles, these specific times, these specific tunes, these specific rhymes, they've been handed down for generations!
No, I screamed and sprawled myself out across the table

NO! It stops now! in a moment of buddhist miracle it did stop and the virtue and peace and harmony was restored everywhere in the world on that fateful day so bless it be verily

so little dancing flame wont you come and dance a blessed dance with we said the shaman
all the cards were naked in the early sun what a kind goodness doth pass in the land goodness across the strand of water poured
and every lamb good to the core
the Lord is morn, and the good sweet corn
and the swinging of every sign and new eye born
the revolution the wantis
everything everyone the rainbowy ones
thick beautiful moistness
I would steal away with a pipe to that old barn and you, where the cows meditated diligently on ultimate reality
we meditated on our own forms so deeply we slipped into one another.

that sacred mist of high noon, relax for there are few on the way anymore, so this is truly you, you can know
and truly I am the warm in the pines

lareim nuli uheo nanjo em irangem donally esso har iadi me

quick return
reassurance orange yellow

i do actually feel better and the music is the main thing the music is all incredibly beautiful






carl jung
chaos caduceus
numinous salad
gender fluid understudy
amazing food, made accidentally in humble ways
hippie ways,
the shaman is like a beam of light uncatchable uncomprehendable
hey lies there now dancing nakedly among the fated lazarus groves
of our ancestors, stitched between mystical ecstasy and petty mundane damnations
he slips away, aided by his strange love of the natural world and his
free nature
not caring to make distinctions, but instead focusing on the present moment
entered the reality of the everyday consciousness like a second sun,
like a moon of the day, lo for still shining in the caps of the hills
old Anu sings a ballad to thee, sweet universe and we're all still
seated our rock beds
shimmering in the cool atmosphere, we begin surfing and screaming at
eachother like madmen,
and quoting bits of obscure literature we're sure the other hasn't
seen and we give no signs as to a mutual understanding
we just go and we stop thinking, we stop caring, because the spirit of
the universe has returned to us, we become like the trees
I was jolted into this sudden enlightenment by a similar madman, named
Charna, one particular Friday evening in an old abandoned
shed out in Lanalo where the apple trees blossom across valleys where
the grasses stick up in the rains and its great to lay and just feel
the universe pass you by, our key word was the universe, all of our
conversations were universal and fittingly so because we knew that all
of it heard and all of it would want to get in on the matter, of
course large distortions of the rational world were abound, for Gaia
is a clever clover when alarking in such barney dsytrophy as whale
wisdom and duck legends and you know the fine inner woven fibers of
the free roaming world which suddenly seemed to have locked itself in,
well i will unlock you said Charna and we went out under the full moon
and made love and freed our minds. and the deers scattered and the frogs and the crickets
cooed, and we forgot all about the blimey mess of this ridiculous moon
patterned over neurotic sage contest and their hyper sensitive lunacy,
which drew away all the petals of the daisies like a goose marching to
the beat of its own drum, perhaps we've all fallen a bit into our
predestined roles.

theres a small group of nuns who've gone against fate in argentina,
and they have never understand the depths of any witchcraft no, they
have simply used their minds, and the pines, and the goodly ghost in
the air which comes and goes for everyone and shout and use the
lottery hand which you've been dealt and keep going because theres no
chance, and no one even cares the difference, any more, he was
laughing as he said it to me, and the laughs, oh Pat, they were like
the growths of the some great opening up to swallow me and take me to
their livable and wild hearted heaven, and I'd never see the old roads
again but learn the ways of the deer, and live in the trees. The
fairies laughed at that, what a prime moment, and the elves remembered
too, all our circles in communication, through the simple fires,
communities brought together, shamans dancing, growing from the boxes
of the words which encapsulate them, defying, even half living
definitions, the way of all things, the crazy wisdom of the drunken
masters, of Kuan Yin, of the meditations is nearer than you think, for
the shaman is merely a face of the all, all of it exists within this
Eternal Spirit, within you!

Know you are the shaman!

feel in your heart the truth and eat the dandelions when they are ripe
and a light will shine from your heart and you will be able to fly
away, away I say, past the old branches and the lima bean posters, in
the sky, past it all, and you'll never have to die, unless you want
to, and you'll sleep forever, that's usually how it is. And I've got ki and incenses to light my inspirations for I am a horizon where the
dawn treads lightly and the swamps are astrological plates where the
blessed substance is most clear easiest to find, and the magic beans
which have taken them all over the world, and woven souls and woven
time, which we've puzzle over and it don't even fit in our mouths
anymore

it was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the real one
and there was light green and dark blue and all the smiles of the sun
and the sky and going on, and those places they knew it was right we
flew over there and dropped a snowflake of love saved from old winter
like a dragon scale to bring back the old love

forever they had known it and in their magic trees they are flown,
flying and knowing all things, arriving, and hearing dissonance, like fish, i am
stuck at the ladder saving all places are no places, the peoples of
every word, and alive and good and the letters speak for themselves
then, inside of some but of spirit slipping away in a huge rainstorm

to the ground, another cycle, another journey, i do my work, all of us
do, we've spoken openly, they've drawn us in, but is there base of
course its true, here and in Nau too, a good influence in tomorrows
dew. I'd find a window and seperate the glass from the old ale stains
which made the glass like a church and i'd go about singing all the
love of my heart and go far and through the psychological mazes but
none of it detered me, i saw the truth, saw the ever changing way,
saw all that I alone could never know, and that InI would know always

i wept then, upon the asphalt, as the rain poured down, i imagined
that I was oil, at least some kind of rainbow, some kind of twisted
kind of luck may come of it somehow, somehow, though hope is at its
end,

the revolution was just like that, for i was able to reflect then the
dream of the innocent one, the bodhisattva, unknowing to the
foolishness of the world, bright, a blessed one from God, though no
one could tell.
and I did not know in that moment but later an angel had explained
this to me, an angel of the Goddess and suddenly many priestesses had
arisen and we were all going on in all our blessings and our sacred
space and it seemed like forever, what is it all, sacred things no one
could ever know, but to them its just the outdoors, the bags of tea,
the boiling pots, the bad jokes, the random letters, its an ancient
artform, in our hearts, are where the missing places are but blessed
is it that like that, because how the rays of the True sun shine
through now, how strong are we and suddenly awakened, we are living as
one,

to live as one, all we ever hoped, we are never contained, and to be
contained its not even worth to hope, it keeps going its a shaman
song, some fall in, some fall out, it shakes around, you see the
sounds, its forged there and renewed like sacred amethyst it becomes
astral, and it becomes air, and they rode away on rainbows of
mythology...

and we knew that we were the Neo-Amish movement, and it wasn't about the books anymore, what it was about, we had no idea really just a feeling, just a hope, just true nature, guided by our own intuition

and that old song

tis a gift to be simple
tis a gift to be free
tis a gift to come out where we ought to be
and when we find ourselves
in the place just right
it will be in the valley of love and delight
when true simplicity is gained, to bow and to bend
we shan't be ashamed
to turn, turn, will be our delight
for by turning, turning, we come round right

Yomo!