Maker in the Middle

In the center of all things

Is the One Who is All

From the infinitely large

To the infinitely small

Nowhere not the center

Even that which you call edge

Split the atom and there is fullness

There’s no space that you can hedge

There is no private matter

As far as matter is concerned

In fact matter doesn’t matter

Once it’s spiritually discerned

Reality is Oneness

This thought called two has never been

It’s the illusion of separation

Denying the truth of what’s within

We live, move, and have our being

In the One Place all things Be

Once we receive the “I” that sees this

There’s nothing ever more to see

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

 

The Soul You Rob Is Your Own

Eyes filled with tears

Heart so full

Can’t say it’s spilled milk

Seeing all this bull

Everywhere soul robbers

Work to dig our graves

Offer carrot stick freedom

Keep us unseen slaves

Two faced leaders

Both mouths lie

Stick those needles

In the public eye

So we see nothing

But we don’t know why

Place our hopes in the illusion

They are on our side

But what I see lately

Merely comes to this

In a win-lose world

Someone will be missed

And in a rank based system

You know who it’ll be

Those who don’t pass muster

And those who look like me

But my tears aren’t for pity

For those who play that role

It’s for those who kill worlds

Trying to find their souls

Because in the grand scheme of things

Nothing’s here for the keeping

This is a seed planting realm

So we can live our own reapings

Forever!

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II

 

 

 

 

If There Was Anything Left Unsaid

Image result for writing on paper

If there was anything left unsaid,
Let the Silence speak for me
For it is filled with more than words
And more than eyes can see

If there is anything you still wonder
Trust that knowledge comes with time
As long as you are open
There’ll be answers you can find

If ever there’s a question
Learn there’s still things we can’t know
But just because they’re not explained
Doesn’t mean that they’re not so

Sometimes we just don’t have the words
For the things we want to say
And some of us are here and now
We’d rather do than stop to pray

© Copyright 2018 Pedro S. Silva II