A Cloak of Shadows

We all entered this given world
Shining ever so brightly
Until we were handed a cloak of shadows
And were taught to take our shining lightly
The shadow cloaks that we are given
Are all different, but the same
Put on by people who we’re born to trust
But started lying with our name
They called us a moniker we didn’t choose
That made them feel a certain way
Perhaps a projection of someone’s past
That we’re expected to display
Rather than get to know us
And discover who we are
They tell us who we’re supposed to be
And complain if we stray far
But it’s not that I’m trying to blame them
They did what they knew to do
Because before they projected onto us
They were cloaked in shadows too
They too were forced into a box
Aimed to maintain society
They believed the lies that were told to them
Before they ever lied to me
Some were told the lie that they were best
When compared to other people
While some were told that they are worst
And must forever work at achieving equal
But, both these states are lies
There’s no one above or below another
And the truth is there’s no shadow here
That another’s light cannot uncover
You see all of us were meant to shine
So that this world won’t be in dark
And each of us has the work to do
Of dissolving shadows with our spark
In so doing we don’t just free ourselves
We free all who came before
Until the world is filled with shining lights
Who wear shadow cloaks no more

Photo by Sunny Tank on scop.io

Am I Confessing?

If I worry when I don’t have to,
What does it really say
About how much it is I trust in You?
Are my words empty when I pray?

If I’m jealous of another
Is it a denial of Your Creation?
If I want what was never meant for me,
Have I led me into temptation?

If I refuse to forgive my neighbor
Who slapped me on my cheek
Have I forgotten I’m eternally safe in You
Whose strength’s revealed when I am weak?

If I try to get attention
That was really meant for You
By pretending I know the answers
Do I make a lie of what is true?

If I worship at the altar
Of things that are bought and sold
Have a made a sham of what Freedom truly is
For a little piece of false control?

If I don’t see me as You see me
Do I make the whole world blind
By denying what’s in all of us
And impressing limits on Your Mind?

If I refuse to receive redemption
Without the words to understand
Simply because I can’t explain it to other folks
Do I let go of Your Hand?

If I’m attached to what will never last
Am I missing Your biggest lessons?
If these thoughts are really on my mind
Are my questions my confessions?

Image by I.am_nah

To Be: The Real You

The truth is they won’t accept you
Because you won’t accept that you’re accepted
You remind them of the lies they told
Because you reflect what they projected
The denial of your existence
Protects identities that don’t exist
And now you want to be like them
What part of the message did you miss?
Who you are before you’re born
Is more true than you can know
When you let someone tell you who you are
Who has no power to make it so
That’s why I live and keep on living
Without the dream of keeping score
Knowing absence from the body
Is Presence with the Lord
And by “Presence with the Lord”,
I mean I Am Presence too
Because the One You Are when You’re with God
Can never be taken away from You

The Way of All Flesh

There is a path that all flesh must take
We’ve always known this from the start
It’s the very awareness of this fact
That reveals the nature of our heart

For the spirit of immortality
Wrestles with the ways of form
Tempting us with corporeality
As if it were the norm

There are hearts that surrender to this way
As long as we are here
While other hearts struggle with time itself
Certain that eternity is near

The struggling heart will not surrender
It crams eternity into space
Living life with all it has
And in its wake leaves waves of grace

It knows the way that flesh must go
But it and flesh are not the same
And on that day when the two must part
It receives that which is its to gain

© Copyright 2016 Pedro S. Silva II

bruce-2The poem above was written by request for the Rev. Bruce MacKenzie Pastor Emeritus of the church I serve in Boulder, CO. “The way of all flesh” was a saying Bruce loved to say when referring to anything that is temporary in this world. At one visit I had with him before his passing he said to me,  “Soon I will be going the way of all flesh, but you and I know that is nothing to be concerned with. So no tears.” I said to him, “Well we teach that Jesus wept when Lazarus died and he was just about to resurrect him, so I cry when you leave.” He laughed at that and changed the subject.  Bruce’s body might have gone the way of all flesh. But though the outer man is beyond our seeing, the inner man remains eternally abiding.

Twisted

People,

In the wake of all that is going on with the violence, fear, hurt, and anger in this world, I challenge all of us who are seeking to transcend status quo to read this poem and take it into your heart. If you get something out of it share it. It’s autobiographical, but in the end, it isn’t about me. It’s about taking responsibility for the world that we are all creating. It’s time to wake up or die in our sleep.

The Love,

Pedro S. Silva II

Twisted
Open up your ears and hear
The story that I’m telling you
When I was a little kid
I used to get dissed on the regular

I used to get picked on
Poked at and made fun of
Because I was a sensitive cat
Always talking about One Love

Other kids my age
Had multiple distractions
Where as I was more focused on
Putting words into action

So when I took it to the streets
I didn’t expect to get straight dissed
‘Cause my shoes had too many stripes for Adidas
But not enough for K-Swiss

My words were for nothing
I only evoked laughter
I tried to get them focused off my clothes
But it just didn’t matter

They called me church boy
They said I talked “white”
But they were living cartoon
While I was living real life

I wanted to show love
But all they knew was hating
Perpetually playing themselves
Because they were mentally masturbating

They believed the lie
It had been passed down from their mama
Generations infected by an attempt
To keep the black man in drama

So I took it to the adults
I thought they would understand
But they were too “whitewashed”
To see this burgeoning black man

So I took it to my history teacher
Then he said this to my face
“You’re a smart boy
And a credit to your race”

He thought it was a compliment
Only a white man could say that
If he understood anything about me
He’d have known I wouldn’t play that

But I knew he had good intentions
I could tell he didn’t know
He was caught up like everyone else
So I decided to let it go

I then took it to my Grandma
But what she said left me unsettled
She told me tell white people I was Portuguese
So that they would treat me better

What the hell was that?
Was this some conspiracy?
Everyone and their mama working together
To try to instill fear in me

They saw something I thought was impossible
While I saw something else
They were choosing to believe a lie
But I chose to believe in myself

I knew that God had made me
And I know He only makes the best
So I knew the fact that I was not white
In no way made me less

Someone had gotten it twisted
And I was going to find out who
There was no way I was letting these scared victims of society
Tell me what to do

So at first I examined the white man
Since everyone thought he was so smart
I discovered so many despicable deeds
It was as if he had no heart

Then I checked out the black man
I figured they were more like me
But I got pissed to find out some of them helped
When we were sold into slavery

My mind became consumed with anger
I had to let it out
So I decided to tell every black and white
What I was all about

Well both sides called me a racist
In that they agreed with each other
Whites said I was an uppity nigger
And blacks called me siddity brother

So I then turned to God
Well turned on Him is more accurate
Because I didn’t like the way He made this world
I told Him I wasn’t having it

I said “You better do something
Before I fix this world myself
If You are the One responsible for this
I might as well pray to someone else”

He responded, “While you’re sitting here pointing fingers
How about looking in the mirror
I am the One that made all you see
Call nothing I made inferior

Who are you to judge?
Are you the scale by which all things are measured?
Are all things imperfect as compared to you?
Did you put this world together?

There’s a point to all of this
Just listen to what I’m saying
Perhaps I created this entire world
Just to have you right here praying

In Me anything is possible
To all those who believe
This world is as beautiful or ugly as you see it
It depends on what you choose to perceive

I made this world out of perfection
But in your Ego you thought you could fix it
This world will change when you change your mind
You are the one that got it twisted

© Copyright 2004 Pedro S. Silva II

 

 

Nothing Is What It Seems

Nothing is what it seems

There’s always something underneath

Hidden worlds in every event

Taking action to be released

All you might see is what’s in front of you

Meanwhile a mystery unfolds

While you’re focusing on the “important things”

Secret stories are being told

Like the alarm that you just slept through

That will you make late to that early meeting

You will experience as an inconvenience

When in truth it’s an Angel’s greeting

Or that relationship that ended

That you thought would be forever

May be causing you a lot of pain right now

But it would be worse if you stayed together

Or what about that job of yours

That leaves you daily stressing

You think it’s about how much you’re paid

When it’s about how much you’re blessing

Your child who will not listen

That one who never stops debating

May be getting on your very last nerve

But you don’t know what they’re cultivating

This is what I remind myself

When things don’t seem to go my way

That God is shaping something in my soul

That is not always on display

And this isn’t true for only me

But for everyone around me

Even the people I consider not so nice

May have souls that would astound me

That’s why Abba tells me not to judge

My sisters and my brothers

Because we might see what our bodies do

But most times we can’t see each other

Of course you may not like this line of thought

I’m not suggesting that you should

All I want to do is encourage you

Because there is underlying good

It may be difficult to fathom

Especially when looking at the past

But even if everything went your way

It still was never meant to last

This world is like an incubator

That’s meant to help us build our strength

Not a place for us to make a home

Or seek to stay beyond its length

And everything that happens here

Is always more than it appears

Because we’re learning how to better choose

Between what’s from joy and what’s from fears

We’re being prepared for our true nature

That was not meant to stay in time

We are practicing being human

So we can handle what is Divine

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

Life Without Hunger

My body has just revealed the news

I’m not the only one who’s ever me

Others will walk in these tattered shoes

And see what I can see

Perhaps you’ll be attending

The event we call this person

And I’ll attend from the other side

Our situations now reversing

You will see I cannot be lonely

So far this has kept me away from you

Since the fear you have of abandonment

Has been guiding what you do

I also cannot be thirsty

And this will change the way you think

When realizing all that’s been cut too short

Every time you pause to take a drink

Plus you’ve been taught you die from hunger

It’s just their ploy to keep you filled

What I’ve found is that by running on empty,

The truth of who we are cannot be killed

At first this thought is frightening

But you cannot figure why

I say it’s because to you death is release

You have parts you want to die

Now you feel that death’s deceiving

You’re still you after it’s all over

Death’s not the escape you thought it was

You still have yourself to shoulder

It’s the cross you have to bear

Until you accept what we’re trying to tell you

Be an empty vessel or lose yourself

The very lesson of the deluge

In the midst of being nothing

You get the chance to see it all

Becoming everyone who ever was

Until you never had to fall

Then we’re standing face to face

You know the secret that can’t be told

Minus hunger we all are One

Emptied fullness reveals the soul

It’s the Life that has no hunger

Desiring nothing you are complete

Every step you take is a victory

No more suffering of defeat

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

The Mirror In the Man

I talked to the Man in the Mirror

Who led me to the Mirror in the Man

The thoughts that I reflect upon

That shape how I understand

He told me that to know him

I first had to let him be

To go back to his original state

Untethered and wholly free

Before he was a father

Before he was a son

Before he was just a survival tool

That state where he is One

His suggestion threatened my ego

I feared I would not exist

Without my mind to remind me of who I was

How could my ideas of me persist?

But he told me that all my big ideas

Led me further from the Truth

They were just stories I told myself

So that my so called life had proof

He said the Man in the Mirror

Is not really my reflection

That I was focusing all my power

On a mere ego projection

My mind shining through a filter

That casted only a shadow of myself

That I then looked at Creation through

Seeing shadows everywhere else

This was really hard to swallow

How could this really be?

How can I know who I really am

If my body isn’t me?

And what of other bodies?

If they’re not people, who are they?

And if I try to tell them this,

What will these other bodies say?

Maybe what they’re supposed to,

To ensure that they survive.

But if that is all that we can do

What is it that makes us come alive?

If we are not all these categories

And boxes people check

Are we really anything at all,

When further we reflect?

That’s really a scary thought

But one we have to entertain

If we ever are to know ourselves

As more than programs in our brain

In fact, the fear we feel around this

Is just another survival tool

Because the brain’s designed to not admit

When its programming has been fooled

Try it if you doubt it

Just try thinking something new

Say something that you don’t believe

And see what your brain will do

Synapses will start firing

Doing pattern reconstruction

Telling you what you already “know”

Just like the brain is supposed to function

It’s not easy to resist this

Even when higher knowledge has been revealed

We cannot do what we want to do

As long as the former pattern’s sealed

When I heard this, I couldn’t deny it

I had experienced the same

My brain was making all the rules

When I thought I controlled the game

This thought was so frustrating

The cognitive dissonance started hurting

Trying to hold these opposing thoughts

Was severely disconcerting

That’s when I remembered

Something in the Bible that I read

“Greater is He that’s in you.”

So I listened to “Him” instead

The “me” that is in the world

Started running out of time

As I began my transformation

Through the renewal of my mind

Paul said to die daily

Renewing body, mind, and all

Living from our heavenly body

That is aligned with our mind’s true call

But to do this we must surrender

We lose our lives when we try to save it

So the only Way to truly live

Is to return our lives to the One who gave it

This is the Mind that is in Christ

The Mind begotten but never born

According to the Original pattern

And not the ones to which the brain’s conformed

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

Walk Through Walls

Walls do not exist

They’re figments of imagination

Designed to blind our consciousness

From what we’re afraid of facing

There are walls that are made of money

There are walls that are made of stone

And walls that are made of false beliefs

Passed down but not our own

Our walls are what protect us

They tell us who we are

And they also tell us who we aren’t

To keep those who aren’t us very far

Almost everybody has them

It’s how we maintain our borders

So those who know that they aren’t real

Are often caught defying orders

We see them as the outcasts

At best they are the martyrs

We take those who are simply living Truth

And we make them movement starters

That’s how we define them

Using retrospection

Approving of them after death

While in life they got rejection

In our guilt we make them heroes

We make them even greater in our minds

We tell ourselves we revere them

But in truth we’re drawing lines

“This far and no further”

Is what we’re really trying to say

“The quickest way to get a statue

Is to go the martyr’s way.”

Now we’re making walls with dreamers

And most of us don’t know

They want to make us famous

So we have nowhere to go

But here’s the thing that we don’t get

I was serious about what I said

Our walls truly do not exist

They’re all made up in our head

Taking away the body

Does not take away the being

We think we’ve put a stop to Truth

But we don’t know what we are freeing

Yeshua called it the last enemy

Because it’s the one that never was

And from it we’ve created worlds

Built on the premise that it does

It’s the Wall that shapes all walls

Telling the lie, “There’s nothing left.”

But once we see the other side

We know there’s no such thing as death

Now the walls begin to crumble

Once we know that they’re not there

And all of a sudden Yeshua makes sense

When he tells us don’t be scared

You can’t imagine what you can imagine

When there’s nothing there to stop you

The first thing that you realize

It that the ego self is not you

We’ve just been dreaming limitation

When in reality there is none

But soon we’ll know ourselves as we are known

The very image of the Son

 

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II

When I’m In Poetry Mode

I have many states of being

Most of them conditioned

Circumstantial ways I am

Depending on my position

If I’m on top I am a certain way

If on the bottom I’m another

Each one relative to what’s going on

Which determines how I’m covered

But when I am in poetry mode

I’m not circumstantially dependent

I enter into a different realm

Where I am consciously transcendent

There’s no thing as linearity

Removing the cause of the effect

For when life turns into poetry

All frames of reference intersect

At the point of their convergence

We find the poem’s entrance into time

Emerging out of no where

Thus impossible to confine

Always open to interpreting

It’s expression has no end

And as the author I am one with it

So who can say where I begin

Perhaps the poetry created me

To bring itself to form

Pre-existing my corporeal self

A possibility outside the norm

Now I’m not just a person being

But an event within creation

Composed of seen and unseen forces

Forming a poetic destination

I’m not encountered but attended

Participation is a must

If you ever want to know me

Before I turn back into dust

For when I’m not in poetry mode

I am a man devoid of being

Processes functioning mechanically

With eyes that have no seeing

Here to do until I’m done

Trying to get my tasks complete

My meaning and my function one

Until I’m considered obsolete

Then I am replaced

With a newer model off the shelf

That’s why a life without being poetry

Is like living without a self

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II