Rob

Come on people now, smile on each other — and the old song, still asking

I.

Two hundred and fifty years,
and the morning still comes up over this land
the way it came before there was a flag to salute it,
red over the Atlantic shoals,
gold across the wheat,
the long light walking west on its own schedule,
asking no one’s party, checking no one’s papers.

Say the number slowly. It has weight.
A quarter of a thousand years
of an argument we are still, thank God, having —
not a settled thing, not a finished thing,
a thing we wake each morning and choose again.

II.

Let me sing it the way Walt taught us to sing,
not the generals on their horses,
not the names carved into the marble downtown,
but the wide and ordinary us,
the body of the country, breathing.

I sing the woman closing the diner at midnight in Toledo,
wiping the counter one last time,
her feet a quiet sermon on endurance.
I sing the kid in McAllen translating the lease for his mother,
holding two languages in his mouth like water.
I sing the lineman in the ice storm,
climbing toward the dark houses to give them back their light.
I sing the nurse on the third night shift,
the farmer reading the sky like scripture,
the welder, the teacher, the trucker
threading the mountain pass at 4 a.m.
so the shelves will be full when your children wake.

I sing the hands. All of the hands.
Brown and pale and freckled and scarred,
the manicured and the cracked,
the hands that lay brick and the hands that lay babies down,
the hands that have never once been thanked
and lifted the whole country anyway.

III.

This is the land they move across,
and it is a stunner, neighbor, it always was.

The Smokies in their blue exhaling fog.
The Mississippi taking its slow brown time.
The red rock holding the print of an older ocean.
The corn going on past where the eye gives up.
The neon and the cathedral hush of the cities,
the porch light in the holler,
the surf and the saguaro and the prairie
that has its own opinion about the wind.

We did not make this. It was handed to us,
the way a lamp is handed, still warm,
and the only rent it asks
is that we keep it lit and pass it on unbroken.

IV.

And here is where love tells the truth,
because the song would be a lie if it only flattered.

The table was set long ago
with a promise large enough for everyone:
that we arrive equal as we arrive crying,
the grain of sand and the wheat alike,
and we have spent two hundred and fifty years
dragging up chairs for the ones left standing.

It came late for the woman who wanted her vote.
It came late, and at a terrible cost,
for the ones who built the wealth and were owned by it.
It is still arriving. The table is still getting longer.
And that is not the country’s shame.
That is the country’s actual work,
the slow and stubborn widening of the word us
until it finally means what it always said it meant.

We are not a finished people.
Thank God. The finished are only the dead.
We are the ones still pulling up chairs.

V.

So do not let them sell you the small story:
that it is us against the others at the door,
that the country is a fortress, or a brand,
or one man’s name across a wall that belongs to all of us.

The truth is older and far more generous.
The boatman and the president,
the immigrant and the great-great-grandson of immigrants
(which is to say, the immigrant),
the one who prays five times and the one who prays to nothing,
the bride and the bride, the groom and the groom,
the one still quietly becoming their own name,
the one who votes the way you do
and the one who never will,
the same sun, as the poem keeps saying,
wearing a billion different faces,
and not one of those faces less American
than the loud ones on the screen.

VI.

Here is what I want for the next stretch of years,
and I will not dress it up in policy.

I want the table longer.
I want the rules to fit the grandmother
exactly as they fit the man with the tower,
no more, no less, the way one set of weights
makes the whole market honest.

I want the kid translating the lease
to grow old in a country
that learned, at last, to read him back.

I want us to disagree the way a family disagrees
at a table it refuses to leave,
loud and wounded and still passing the bread.

I want the porch light and the city light
to recognize each other as the same fire.

VII.

This is not the work of presidents.
It never was. It is the jury chair,
the off-year ballot no one’s watching,
the phone call to the office that wasn’t listening,
the hard conversation held in love
instead of let go in anger.
It is the neighbor’s driveway shoveled.
It is the harder, realer kindness
that costs you something and gives you more.

It is, in the end, just this:
to look at the whole impossible crowd of us
and decide, again, today,
that the stranger is just as good as you.
I was taught that young. I have found it to be true.

VIII.

So happy birthday to the experiment,
to the beautiful unfinished thing,
to the long table under the walking light.

Pull up a chair. There is room.
There was always meant to be room.
That was the whole idea.

And when you pass the bread to the next hand —
the hand that does not look like yours,
the hand that did not vote like yours,
the hand that is, beneath everything, your own,
you will feel it,
the fine thread, the current, the thing the old songs knew:

that there is no them.
There is only the table,
and the light,
and the two hundred and fifty years of us
still, somehow, against all odds,
getting up to make more room.

Come on, people.
Let’s get together.
We have a country to keep.

Rob Chavez  June 4, 2026

© 2026 Rob Chavez. All Rights Reserved.

We arrive along the way,
as different as we are the same,
empty-handed, wide-eyed,
spilled from the one bright source
that spirals the sand and the sky.

No one comes late.
No one is turned away.
The door was never a door.
It only looked that way.

So set the worry down.
You were never asked to carry the whole round world,
only the warm grain in your palm,
only the next kind word.

For love is the strange coin
that grows by being spent.
Hand it all away
and wake up richer than you went.

Open the fist. That’s the whole secret.
A closed hand can hold,
but it cannot be filled,
and it cannot wave hello.

So smile at the stranger.
Grin at your own reflection too.
What you keep, you lose.
What you give walks on ahead of you.

Howl if you have to.
Dance if your feet agree.
Heaven isn’t elsewhere, friend.
It’s here. It’s now. It’s we.

And when some face floats up
warm in you as you read,
that’s no accident.
That’s the point. That’s the seed.

So pass it on, open-handed,
the way it came to you,
already moving, already yours,
and somehow truer the more it’s given through.

Rob Chavez  June 3, 2026

© 2026 Rob Chavez. All Rights Reserved.

When we bow our hearts
to our brothers and sisters,

God’s light shines in them
the same way it shines in you,

not brighter,
not dimmer,

the very same sun
wearing a billion different faces.

Forget the campaign rhetoric,
the champagne rhetoric,
the look-at-me,
remember-my-name rhetoric.

Bring common sense.

Bring your everyman,
everywoman,
everychild heart.

Bring open hands,
open doors,
open arms—

not velvet ropes,
not limited access.

For none of us is truly free
until all of us are free.

There is work to be done.

Locks to loosen.
Walls to soften.
Veils to lift.
Traps to untangle,

many built by fear,
many built by pride,
many built by me
and by you.

We are given the gift
and the responsibility
of choice.

So listen.

Tune your ears
to the still small music within—

the OM,
the hum,
the whisper of God’s voice

moving through your breath,
guiding your feet,
glorious.

“But when will we know?”
we ask.

“When will the peace arrive?
When will the healing begin?”

Friend, it began
the moment you stopped to ask.

The stars did not wait.
The earth did not wait.
The dance was already turning,
and it left a place open—

the exact shape of you.

So step in.
Take the hand beside you.
Forgive the one that trembles.

Deep down,
we have always known what is good.

We were only waiting
for someone to begin.

Let it be you.
Smile first.

And watch how the whole world
smiles back, remembering
it was never alone,
and neither,
my friend,
were you.

Rob Chavez  1995

© 1995 Rob Chavez. All Rights Reserved.

Hungering for ecstasy?
Have that urge
to merge infinitely
with the infinite sea?

Just for you
are countless possibilities
To be sated with joy
vibrating ecstatically

Ask the first person smiling
Wisdom rests on a contented face
Listen and learn, give it time to be so
Truth has no need to race

Ask the girl twirling through the air
Making love while fingering her hair
She laughs at lies, fears no crying
never judges, doesn’t dare

Ask the boy dancing free
Spinning in space, relatively
Time never touching his soul
He knows sight is just one sense to see

Ask the old woman,
she might know
She has lived her life whole
and still willing to grow
How to feel good, she says,
I’ll tell you how
Live this fine fine moment
right here in the now

What I find works
is loving my neighbor
in any way I can
Be it woman or be it man
Being loving is being human

And if
in any way
I am caught by doubt
I use my love for God
to figure it out

I ask for forgiveness
and look for connection
I dance to the rock of ecstatic perfection

I read the Good Book
I give all a knowing look
keeping my eyes peeled
for that internal devil
Prejudiced scales
are never on the level

Be a generous and loving neighbor
Create a kind mood
Think of Love
as God’s favorite food

We deserve
to serve it
Give it away
Offer it humbly
day by day

The more Love we share
The greater God provides
Giving clearer pictures
Giving evenmore joyful rides

Our Love for each other
Is God’s favorite meal
Rewarded for the feeding
Beatitude feel

Rob Chavez
1991

Peace lives
ever where
our heart rests.

Hell exists
in conflicts of interest,
behind the confines
of self-imprisoned minds,
in those moments
we fail
to find
in others
that which is easy
and kind.

Our tongue,
by old habit, an easy bribe,
carves words that both
denounce and ascribe
a life at once
ignorant and sublime,
obsessed with staying
inside space and time.

When our eyes fix
on cruelty alone,
we have cut the world in half
and called the half the whole.

To mend it,
we lean in close and breathe the same air,
turning toward one another
the slow way
a flower turns to face the sun,
righting the balance,
revealing the quiet power
that was ours all along.

Let the peace in
through one peaceful thought.
Build with a wider eye.
Lay a plank across the gap
and walk it to each other.

We are,
each and every one of us,
both the dreamer and the dream,
the hand on the clay
and the clay.

This is the work,
and the work is ours.

Love is the main course.
Desire, a sweet dessert.
Ecstasy, the food of prayer,
that fills us and heals the hurt.

And our smiles turn sweet,
our eyes go bright,
the way a window catches
the late gold light,
no doubt left in us,
only the knowing
that this, right here, is right.

You will never taste hell
by wishing your neighbor well,
by lifting them along the way.
Together, by choice,
we make
a lighter day.

In the palm of one hand
are counted
each and every grain of sand.

We each choose
our own voice:
to judge one another,
or to rejoice.

So, my friend,
let the shoulders drop.
Let the jaw unclench.
The prayer was heard
before the asking,
the way a room hears
the first note
before the song.

Let’s use interchangeable pronouns.
It doesn’t matter
how the One is pronounced.
Me, or Him, or You, or We—
any One of us
sets any other One free.

Rob Chavez 1991

© 1991 Rob Chavez. All Rights Reserved.

There is a sound the silent night keeps,
low under the hush, where the deep listening sleeps.
Even the deaf can hear it.
Even the lost draw near it.

It is the glad noise of angels above,
which is only the sound of God’s own heart,
beating its one long syllable of Love
through every vein, through every art,
through the dark and the dawn and the space in between,
through the seen, and the felt, and the not-yet-seen.

It feeds us, quiet as daily bread.
We barely notice we are being led
to warm, to wake, to rise and shine,
each of us a small lit window
in one enormous house of light.

So who is this child, born and laid so low,
this Jesus the carols and candles know?

No stranger. No distant king.
The Light already within us,
the near and forgiving thing,
the spark that says, gently, begin —

born again in everyone
who chooses, today, to let it in.

A welcoming home wide open,
soothed by breezes breathing free.
Shaded with trees
grown wise through the ages.
Illumined with love learned and taught.
Founded on solid rock,
grounded by thought.

All paths lead to this peaceful place,
a destination of refuge, salvation, and grace.
Warmed by the hearth, abundant bread.
No one denied entry, no one arrives late.
Gently we are guided
through the garden gate.

Here the truths we held so tightly
loosen in the hand like bread gone warm.
No need to act. No need to answer.
The eyes go quiet. They see the room as it is.
Each heartbeat sets another fear down
the way you’d set down something heavy at the door.

From God’s essence we emerge
and in that essence we remain,
the breath going deep,
the old hungers cooling to embers,
and a kiss that asks for nothing seals the trust.

The floor beneath us drops.
Our feet they hang.
We look up —
the roof is gone.

The roof is gone.
We are directly connected
to the Divine.

And the Holy Sound comes in through the opening,
the way rain finds the field.
Each time we still ourselves and listen,
some weight we carried lifts and goes,
and we carve for ourselves a finer fate.

The earth turns on forgiveness.
Axis secure.

In this one moment, paradise flares,
brief and complete as a struck match,
and everything we ask is already in our hands.

There is no only-me.
There is no other.
What flows through one of us
flows home through another,
and the same source runs in all of us
the way one river wears a hundred names.

We receive all that we give.
We taste exactly what our love allows.
And the mind, when it is quiet, makes its quiet magic:
the grudge dissolved, the old ache eased,
the tears that blurred the morning wiped to clear.

Whatever we turn toward grows toward us,
the love we make, the regret we water.
That is the whole of it. No secret. No lock.

Like the breath, it returns. Like the tide, it returns.
The chime struck once and ringing,
ringing on past where the ear can follow,
and this is how we keep our time:
by the warm recurrence, the coming-round-again.

So we arrive, at last, where we started.
All things possible. The golden grain
greening up again through the turned dark earth.

We come to find
our family home was resting inside us
all along,
and we love now the way the home stands open,
never lost, and forever free.

Rob Chavez
2015

Let go of guilt.
It’s by Love’s hand we’re built,
born with grace and given surety,
formed in a thoughtful image,
finished to the hilt.
Asked of us is only the willingness to see
that God loves us,
and that one Truth sets us free.

So wake up and smile.
Get up off your knees.
You’ll find, in the end,
the sin was the illusion,
the lock was never locked,
and every moment holds
a fresh door in,
the way out and the way back
the very same swinging hinge.

Saying what we mean
and meaning what we say,
giving all we have
and watching it come rounding back our way,
handed on to whomever we please.

We can have it all
and carry no fear.
The walls we called our limits
were only fog. Watch them clear.

And the voice that says you are not enough,
the one that wakes before you do
and starts its quiet subtraction,
the one that learned its lines so long ago
you mistook them for your own,
that voice is not God,
and it is not you.
It is the old bruise speaking.
Thank it for trying to keep you small and safe.
Then set it down,
the way you’d set down a stone
you forgot you’d been carrying,
and feel how far you rise without it.

Our pleasure grows as we forgive,
from within as from above,
so let’s not war, one with another.
There is no living in that.
Remember, friend, you were made from love,
and made from love, you cannot owe your way back in.

You were never on trial.
The verdict came in before you were born,
and the verdict was yes.
You don’t earn the morning.
You wake, and it is already given.
So wake. It is already yours.
It always, only, was.

Faster than the speed of Life
is God’s forgiveness of our misgivings
 
The Speed of Light
carries its message
that time is space
eternal and everlasting
you are born star bright, void of lies
the Tao of Peace shines in your eyes
 
In each of us is the seed of Life
and it is brought to fruition
by our desire come to know
 
Nature has nothing to hide
You have a lifetime to seek
Finding the Truth and letting it go
The game is the same for the strong and the meek
 
Be not afraid of pleasure
But steer clear of temptation
Allow yourself to love at your leisure
The Love you came from is beyond measure
 
All in all there is nothing left to do
‘cept smile smile smile
Light up, toss a bum a dime
Bum a song and bum a line
Play “He’s Gone” one more time
Travel freely all the while

Hey Everybody!
Those of every age
How about some free poetry
A few lines of generic rhyme
Written down
So all can see

Right now is the perfect time
To be a poem
or a tree
Both are sown and grown
on God’s Good Earth
Blooming honestly

St. Stephen Dedalus
Alive as an Irish rose
Stoned by mother’s dominoes
Humming a tune heard deep inside
A tune only his heart
and Heaven knows

It’s useless to judge
Idealize, idolize
or compare
Nudge your neighbor
compassionately now
We all have loads of love to spare

When we choose respect
For every song and every dance
We find it senseless to pretend
and pointless to hide
When we have humility
We have no need for pride

A couple of couplets
and some clever preaching
May change the world,
Or may be just vain reaching
And looking to the past
for Truth
Tricks us
Into missing today’s teaching

Peace is in the balance
of thought, word, and deed
Forgiveness diminishes
hatred and greed
The black of night
succumbs
to the sundawn day

Life is a vibration
Back and forth, a reliable relay
Yin and yang, the silent bang
At once both inspired
and utterly tired
We are all One poem anyway

Rob Chavez
1993

I have little to say
   but
      here I am for you
   today
      my lips soften a
   smile
      for you
      and see no use for
   words
      I’d like to lie a
   while
      with you
      seduced by the
   singing
   birds
   and then silently slip
   away with you
      to another day.

Rob Chavez
1991

No time to wait
Though the heart tick-tocks
 
unblocks
 
releases the fear
tears open all locks
 
reflect
 
reconnect
 
articulate
 
recollect
 
sensurelate
 
drum beat open ear
 
heart tickle
 
ya late!

Miracles are
like the respiration of life
poetry verse and universe true
symmetry and equality
inequality too
 
Tears of rage, tears of grief
are miracles of human relief
Laughter and ecstasy, 
miracles felt
with divine belief
 
Chaos and order, the twin brothers
of that miracle we call immaculate creation
Back and forth, 
dominate then subjugate
Defined by interdependent relation
 
Your fingerprint is a miracle
Unique and formed by God's touch
Holding the mysteries of fate and fortune
Belly full and beautiful
or singing the blues out of tune
 
Catch 22, a miraculous catch
Male and female, a miraculous match
Miracles are never locked
Like Love, there is no latch

There are any number of ways
the Truth can show
There is only one way
We go
That way has no direction
There is nothing there to know
 
Howl at the moon
Howl as you sway
lay down a rhythm, ride a wave
If there were rules against it
It would not be
the way
 
Oh, no.
Let us not start that game
where
everything is ambivalent
There is only one
way

Like a puzzle
Pieced together by feeling
Falling into place
Peacefully unfolding
Freeing and redeeming
But most of all, fun

Down the rabbit hole
and over the rainbow
Clouds float gently
upon thoughts sky high
No reason to lie, cheat, or steal
Only time to realize

it’s all within you to reveal

Blowing in the mind going home
Sunshine Starshine Om
I sing the body of Walt Whitman
I breathe the mind of Allen Ginsberg
I revel in Joycian language landscapes
I take a trip on Cowboy Neal’s bus
I kiss Jimi Hendrix’s sky
I dance to the beat of Jack Kerouac
I space my time gratefully dying
I chase white rabbits
I read the news today, oh boy
I feel the poetry of Bob Dylan
I take a load off with the Band
I sympathize with the Devil
I roll with the Stones
I feel free with Cream
I turn turn turn with the Byrds
I let it be with the Beatles
I moondance with Van the mystical man
I talk with my head same as it ever was
I pearl jam my daily bread
I R.E.M. in my sleep
I politicize compassion
I am revealed in rhyme
I follow the Way and stay out of the way
I have everything and own nothing
I respect the musical wind
I eat the food of the gods
I am One with my brothers and sisters
I float on the pillow surreal
I dream the love that seems so real

Fly in sleep
Bell the gong
Reverse the age
Silent song
 
My eyelids lie lidded with dust
The faucet drips
The razor’s edge rusts
Dreams of youth have fled
with dreams of lust

Waking where the willows weep
Then rolling over
and sinking back into sleep
Down in the ravines
where kudzu
and Virginia creepers creep
haunted by thoughts
I should better not keep
and revealing myself
to the tealeaves that steep
Wandering through waters
my knees measure deep
 
I slip myself through
as posey children sing
round rosey ring
All things are possible
God bless the good king
 
Liberty loves company
dancing free, destined to see
often lit, catcher mitt
couplet split, creation fit
lighthouse hat, happy and fat
 
Weep if you will
Tears of appreciation
 
Tears of acceptance
and resolve
 
Tears of sweetness
and healing
 
Tears of lightness
and revealing
 
Tears that defy fear
and reflect the Truth
 
You are essential
This has always been true
 
It is your desire
with which everything connects
 
Everything connects
God’s Love to you.

On the road, paved with schemes

Thumbed out, back cracked,

Fixin’ to fix the broken jack.

Abundance in trust

with relations to last.

Not knowing who or when to stop

Pretending my past.

Beat as heck,

I am bumming

these dharma blues.

For ever beginning.
Born again without end.
Creation in every way
decayed and renewed

always.

 
I pray
with God’s hands
gently cradling
my head.
 
I feel
with God’s love
filling my heart.
 
I see
with God’s eyes
guiding me
inside my mind.
 
I give
with God’s grace
abundantly
in my life.
 
What creates smiles these days?
For me, it chiming guitars.
Some rhythmic complexity.
A neat turn of expression or two
to subside the tides of belief.
 
God equates
all as one.
 
God equates
two with fun.
 
God equates
nothing is wrong.
 
God equates
love and song.
 
God equates
Peace on Earth.
 
God equates
equality at birth.
 
God equates
creation with celebration.
 
God equates
inspiration with elation.
 
God equates
togetherness with individuality.
 
God equates
Universal truth with man’s reality.
 
God equates
chaos with opportunity.
 
God equates
autonomy with unity.
 
God equates
all who go with all that remain.
 
God equates
One life to sustain.
 
Get it.
Don’t forget it.
Let it.
Don’t leave it.
Spread it and believe it.
Laugh it
and live it.

people sneak into your home
in the middle of the night
to eat Romanian spiced beef
and drink beer
…then tape your mouth shut
as they proceed to tickle you
back to sleep

The book begins
with a strange awakening.

Ah, yes,
the subtleties
of a summer breeze.
Memories from the subconscious
rise to the surface.

Sing to me
but please make it silent
the night spies on us
we await the freeze

Tears well deep inside, inductively from
these ripples of experience.

You’ve been through this before

Make it different      this time

Laugh at your sense

of ordinary Oneness

Clear eyed smiling

the flag of freedom

Millions of light years

to the nucleus from which we burst

Thick or thin

the whim of destiny

Make it different

Make it different

Make it different

this time

The flying eyeball sees all

and blesses the courageous with wings

When we keep

God as our sight

We can see how the darkness

succumbs to the light

We are

Here and now

grains of sand and wheat

allegories and little stories

made up by you and me

Running to and from the same direction

Light on two feet

Struggling with our divinity

We are

the three faces of eve

and every atom

wholly trinity

the evolution of eternity

peace love joy

sadness    sorrow   searching for more

we are all saints

we are all looking to score

To borrow a line from brother Bob

You ain’t goin’ nowhere

There ain’t no where to go

only way

 as a connoisseur

of the kind

and the pure

please appreciate

these Scarlet Begonias

for their percolating motion

            spinning on the land

            tiptoeing on the ocean

passing from hand to hand

            gifts of mystery and devotion

If my hands held a gift

Like the magi was I

Led by the star

that shines for all

no distance too far

it would be these

simple poems

Jesus came back
as promised for years.
He appeared in each face
and smiled.
"Weep no more,"
His smile said.
"Dry each others' tears.
God's Divine Love
is born in every child.
 
You cannot lose it
and you cannot refuse it.
You are as I AM, 
the light of the world.
This is my final judgement.
Release your fears.
 
The peace you seek 
is right now at hand.
The Universe is complete
in every grain of sand.
On this rock of Truth
we are all granted a stand.

Provided bounteous bread.
Infused with delight,
baked for all to partake.

Given eternal life
made possible
by the love we make.
 
Planted with abilities of mind.
To each one's quest
our talents are tended.
 
Healed of separation.
Void of limitation.
Conflicts resolved.
Broken hearts mended.
 
Tame your tongue
and think anew.
All clichés
in time
come true.
 
Cast off hesitation, 
let all doubt go.
God's Love can never
be taken from you.
Consider yourself as One
in the know.
 
Within you shines brightly
the origin star.
You are fated to find it.
You need not look far.

No matter
aged or child,
safe at home
or lost in the wild.
Love is who you are.
You need not know how.

Slow it down a bit.
No need to race.
There really is no "there" 
to be first.
Only here and now.
 
God's Love
does not dwindle,
despite the depths you fall
or confusion you kindle.
Never has Love known more.
More can not supplant All.
 
Nothing changes what I say.
You can bet on your life 
these are winning stakes.
The universe was created perfect
and remains perfect in every way.
God makes no mistakes"
 
And Jesus smiled,
"All beings
on Earth and beyond
are my body and blood.
Accept this gift
with every breath.
Each moment, a joyful union.
Each birth loosening death.
 
I respect the words you say
and honor the view you see.
Please indulge yourself
and practice the same today.
Play with others as if you were me.
 
Focus on unity
and the love of one another.
Find the fine thread that connects.
God shines with perfect light
every facet of creation reflects.
 
Growth comes with each step you take,
and each thought passed by your mind.
 
How often have you thought
you have more than you need?
 
How often have you thought
it feels good to be kind?
 
How often have you thought
God wants you to succeed?
 
How often have you succeeded
in accepting what you find?
 
The past, a footprint in the dust.
The future, the fruit of our creed.
Here and now is eternity
to harvest honey.
There is plenty for everyone
and plenty of mouths to feed.
Does a child of God have need
for lawyers, guns or money?
 
Hard lovers and easy riders too,
I wink a nod of approval to you.
It is your respect I wish to earn.
The same applies to all as to others.
Mohammad, the Buddha and I
breathe as brothers.
They have much to teach me
cause I have much to learn.
 
My message is simple.
You are loved for who you are,
not the illusions you sustain.
As it is written,
you are birthed Imago Dei.
Created perfect
and perfect you remain.
 
Christian or Muslim, 
Zen or Jew,
those who have no belief
but to wade in the morning dew.
With you I pray and play,
Sing poetry and practice meditation.
Manifesting a Universe safe and pure.
 
You can choose to criticize
or taste sweet discovery.
Perhaps division leads to decay,
and denying Our Love
makes pain endure.
God wishes you only good.
That is for sure."
 
And Jesus smiled,
"The future looks dim for bigotry
and those who spare no expense
on their greed.
Gaining more than you give,
be it sport, trade or game,
is a hollow need.

You are all my sheep.
Do some deserve less than others?
Competition or cooperation,
which focus does Love keep?
Have you righteous reason
for denying equity
to your sisters and brothers?
 
Truth does not separate
treasures we have
from abundance we think.
Eternal thought is pure,
peaceful waters run deep.
A satisfied man shares
his first and last drink.
 
Supplied for you
are miraculous means
and your heart's beat
measures all ends.
You are conceived 
whole and complete 
and in time
returned to new form,
with family and friends.

I reach out my hand to you,
if it's a hand you need.
But as I told you before,
you are perfect just as you are,
you are grown from God's sacred seed.
 
Whether in the air,
on land or at sea,
you are the All to your very core.
One with The Creator
now and evermore."
 
And Jesus smiled,
"Have brave and original thought.
Be right here and right now,
alive in the moment.
Tread on fear.
Choose words that allow others heaven.
Reign in your soul,
storm in your brain.
Listen for music
that lightens your day.
 
Respect your body,
perfect but temporary.
Truly a glorious temple,
bones raised by spirit.
You are magnificent creatures
I'll tell you again and again.
You'll recognize my voice
every time you hear it,
and pass it on
every time you smile.
My message is always the same.
I wish for you a lover's kiss
and time to rest a while."
 
"You are composed of that holiness
which blesses the stars into view.
 
The moon, 
like the sun too,
blooming bright or blue,
is born 
from the same spark as you.
Rolling across the sky
each moment new.
 
Rhythmic rhymes sung in praise
heals all need and shares no lie.
Your economy flourishes 
with songs of justice.

Material fortune gained by deception
is withered and rotten.
Your worth is the love
you are willing to give.
Your debts, withholdings 
and the misbegotten.
 
Bliss does not require desire.
Satisfaction is simple by deduction.
There is nothing in the past
you need right now to know.
Your eyes light afire
when accepting God's Love
and know it is so.
 
Disease, like well being,
comes and goes,
ebbs and flows 
like all nature.
It can be strengthened
or diminished 
by the will of the mind.

Heal one another
I say to you.
Let your tongue 
speak its passion.
Allow guilt to resign.
 
Dance righteously
when your feet find that they can.
Being Light in motion
is a blessing for everyman.
 
Sleep peacefully under that starry night.
Regard one another
with abundance in your sight.
 
Live daily 
as if it were your last.
Remember each day
to forget the past.
 
Regard yourself well
and offer reparation.
The chain of love 
has no missing link.
You are closer to God
than your mind can think.
 
The sum of All is One.
You can figure it out
by dividing the difference
of what you must do
and what you think others should.
 
Do that which reveals joy.
Manifest wealth.
 
Do that which feels good.
Manifest health.
 
If you must resist a temptation,
resist the temptation to judge.
 
Give to others
a loving nudge.
 
Let peace be your passion.
Make charity a priority.
Respect each other
with clarity and sobriety.
You will be happy and wise
and always a majority"
 
Jesus offered namaste
and smiled again,
"Know that our hearts 
are forever entwined.
My blood runs in your veins.
 
Remember who you are 
and mind not the lies 
you may have been taught.
Think no fear and fear no thought.
 
God's Love lives
every where you look.
The key to all locks,
in every word
in every book.
Guiding your sight
and giving you wisdom
to see All can be right.
 
Meditate on my words 
but go beyond
these limiting lines.
I kiss your face gently
Ee'r the sun shines.

In dark of night
I burn in you 
ever lasting
inner light.
 
Love's language composes you
and sings your song forever.
God provides all Ways
and is always
willing to deliver.
 
Sow a spiritual garden.
Tend to the seed.
Focus on knowing
that All get their need.

Let go of limitations,
God provides as you believe.
My smile is yours for the seeing.
The Universe appears as you perceive.
God's Love is present in every being.
Give to others what you would receive."

Jesus came back 
and everyone smiled.
A smile from knowing
God within. 
Me and You
and every child.

 
Comments, criticism and hugs welcome.
 
© 2004-2023 by Rob Chavez