Capturing The Moments Of A Contemplative Life though lacking meter, rhyme, and any preestablished harmony of formal methods we do find in the eroticism of moments extremely passionate expression between lovers, man and nature, and passing friends. Throughout, whether he writes of love, sex, or everyday life we find a sense of longing.
The author's ability to capture purely lyrical impulses and voices then allowing them to grow in their own original directions as lyrical expression proves mystical at times. His subconscious appears to receive thoughts of past and present from outside the boundaries of time and space and flow through his consciousness. Therefore they are not necessarily the emotions of the author, or any single person but may be seen as the collective consciousness of humanity as a whole. Because of the author's aptitude to channel the passionate experiences of others whose level of energy exceeds most, many insist he is a being without a self-identity.
The astonishing ease with which he transforms the phenomena of sexual experiences, oneness with nature, and the heartbreak of aging into symbolic images of psychological states proves to be the heart and soul of his writings.
If you deeply contemplate his musings that appear to come from his aesthetic consciousness you will transport to a feeling of spatial motion without a conception of time.
Capturing the Moments of a Contemplative Life
By S.A. StitzAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 SA Stitz
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4567-2508-2Chapter One
Did I? How many have I influenced?
How many who asked did I not?
Will the things I have said endure,
Or are they fodder for the mind?
Did my footprints scar the Earth,
Or did I leave but a trace? In the
Moments that existed in my time
Did I make a difference?
The universe is beyond our imagination,
But one spark can change its path,
One thought create a galaxy, and
One kiss lift another's soul beyond
Human boundaries. Did I manage to do
Enough of these things? I'm told I did.
The Artiste
As he gazes deep into my eyes my body and mind slip beyond my control, I am ready to flow eternal and cast my energy throughout the limitless universe. My fate is in the hands of the artiste who knows only too well this instrument he plays. High above the madness of human chaos the rays of the sun shape my dress and wisps of white clouds form my under garments. His beautiful golden dragon guides my chariot to the gates of divine heavenly bliss; passing through I roam and linger among pleasures too intense for everyday life.
As he lay above me lesser spirits gather around bathing me in rainbow lights and jasmine scents. He wanders with me gathering up my emotions creating laughter and tears while filling me with energy that will extend my love to life everlasting.
Hidden
Breezes of spring
You have your way
With my emotions
The rains you bring
Paint the grasses
Green as jade
While blueberries
Grow fat and sweet--
Where is it you
Hide in summer?
Spring rain
moist grasses
sweeten the air
Too Precious
Around her neck she wears the
Symbolic dragon he gave her,
Holds dearly the poems that
He wrote. The clothes that he
Wore she can't bear to wash.
Her love for him is like a flower
That is much too precious to pick.
Solitary man
on a hillside
beyond the city
sits a solitary man
nobody owns
alone he endures
a sorrow that grows deep
with the cold wind
and the falling snow
no matter that he does not
threaten the earth's creatures
or bother spring flowers that
compete only for beauty's sake
he too will fall under the weight
of humanities dreadful burden
to be trampled into dust, but the
wisdom he offers will remain.
Lovers of the Night
Transparent clouds so delicate
that distant stars shine through.
Meteor tails proclaiming the
ecstasy of lovers who meet
but twice a year. The energy
they create is so much more than
lovers of this world can manage.
Merging into each other like
molten lava for one long perfected
moment in time, their bliss is beyond
the hopefulness of dreams. Yes,
they know sorrow when they part,
but the experience lasts forever.
Their melancholy is but a wisp of
smoke against the rays of the sun.
Spring Is Everywhere
There are ten thousand
shades of green and
five thousand shades
of red on this twenty-
first day of spring. I
walk along the bank
of the river and smell
the perfume 0f the
flowers; at ease and
smiling while the soft
south breezes caress
my face. Everywhere I
look spring is blazing.
looking to
heaven for Truth
I stepped on a flower
Joy in Being Alone
I am not destined to be social,
the basement of my home
is where I can be found.
Hundreds of lines of prose
I write filling my time. When
I am bored I relive my life's
experiences and feel again
as I did back then.
It is not for you to say that my
writing is weak, and the words
do not rhyme, it is I who feel
the rhythm of their movement
like a fresh breeze lifts a feather.
The images buoy my emotions,
give joy to my being alone, and
loneliness never creeps in.
One More Hour
In bed we whisper softly lying
one against the other resembling
vines on a tree. Teasingly
with legs entwined, and heads
together our hands once again
begin to roam. Time slips by....
the moon watches and the cicada
sing. As the sun rises a sadness
creeps in. We cannot get enough
of each other; our passion and
love are insatiable. The night had
passed much too soon. Sweet
gods above to whom I've called
the whole night through, what
do I need to do for just one more
hour? Yes, I understand, it is
always this way when I'm with him.
.... too harsh
Alaska wilderness
There is a place I
know, it's isolation
protected by
mountains and
raging rivers. Icy
winds break
frozen grass
in winter and
thunderheads
drench the earth
in spring. Here,
birds and animals
live in peace, for
it is too harsh
for the fragile man.
Bitter wind
shivering branches
ever vulnerable
At Peace
Early summer, spring plantings are ripening, heavy evening dew forms a mat on the bushes, bright green grasses cover the ground and the setting sun creates a burning sky.
Looking around she is glad the spring rains have passed. Barely twilight she tends to the weeds that are crowding her beds and the air is crystal clear. Her dogs run with joy as they bark and splash in the puddles. She walks throughout her gardens the plants are wet and glistening. A pool of water shimmers with images that appear then fade only to reappear. Surrounded by trees laden with fruit, much like her heart, which is swelling with joy. Her mind is at peace.
The Visitor
Why did I come to Earth's
over populated garden?
Deserted by their gods;
the promise of heaven is
far from real — further still
humanities compassion.
I'll stay awhile, breathe
the polluted air, eat
the chemically tainted
food and reflect on why
humans waste the
moments of their lives.
A moment in time (8)
there I was
walking a trail
mind unruffled,
calm, finally
realizing I am
but a simple
ordinary self
Ego dimmed
undisturbed
my self appeared
Leon 1
No speaking of philosophic conundrums
No reminiscing of days gone bye
Now there is only one at the table
An old man with a beret
Who sits and sips coffee by himself
Thinking of his dear old friend
2
I continue on, ever on and on separated by a parting of death. Like the redwoods in the forest your life's work stands tall, and your sojourn throughout this world was with gusto and honesty. Our hikes in the morning hours, and the weekly cup of coffee we shared made us cheerful, proving that a little friendship is no small matter. Prolonging the memories keeps my heart light leaving no room for sadness to cast its shadow.
3
Goodbye My Friend
September sunlight bathes the hills, leaves change color, sparkle then fall. Here in the place we chose to say goodbye; like the falling leaves you drifted down then akin to a drifting cloud you floated away. I hope you know that your voice lingered in the air, as you were set free. It is here I'll have one last drink with you. It should be said, I never tired of him, or he of me.
No Words
I have always wondered
why words could never capture
the depth of my emotions or my
complex thoughts, nor the spiritual
experiences I have with my lover.
The times when our bodies are
entwined and our passions reach
incredible heights his energy flows
through me penetrating my every
cell. I scream and utter gibberish.
When attempting to capture those
moments language once again
proves utterly useless!
the answer ...
purge your thoughts frequently
leave no desire nor envy there
mountain forests and coral beds
stand amongst and be in awe
let love permeate your existence
for when you open your heart
there will be peace in your mind
My being:
A reflecting pool
without end
haunted
In despair a lonely girl cries out,
who will pity the promises set
afire, forever lost beyond the
reach of my dreams?
Haunted by ashes that linger she
remembers only too well the tender
moments and uncontrolled passions
that once defined her every moment
Sensual
She gathers up her skirt:
no slip to be seen. Standing
at the open window brushing
her hair, her silky aqua blouse
billows about. If someone sees
the open buttons she will say,
it was the spring breeze.
Reminiscence
Cotton puff clouds, and the
Aromas of lilacs carry me back
To the alluring scent of your neck.
Gros Ventre
(waterfall)
Out of the mountains the narrowing river
Became a roaring waterfall white with foam.
Flowing quickly past flattened rocks
Crashing with a sigh to its demise in the
Meadow where its waters calm only
To rise again in a vapor of misty forms
That reach for the sky. The rays of the
Sun weave a rainbow of dancing light
And the bellow of a final roar, pays
Tribute to the mighty storms that raged.
I stand on the mountain top awed by
The powerful sight of mating water and
Earth originated by this waterfall's flight.
.....meditation
Kathmandu, Nepal
After climbing
the three hundred steps
of the monkey temple
I observed a Buddhist monk
in a state of meditation.
To me it seemed like,
just for a moment,
he transformed
into pure energy.
How intimate now
lightening is at dusk.
I envisioned Buddha
and Buddha
was born
Gros Ventre (3)
It seems that
I and my friends
who have been
backpacking
in the land of
Wyoming are
younger now
since last you've
seen us.
Her Smile
Constant as the North Star
she never shifts her manner.
Her smile like the morning
sun brings warmth to others.
Lying in bed she asks that he
come and be with her for a while.
Though there seems to be too much
time between visits she knows
that her love will last forever.
It's a Journey
Sometimes a short journey
Can take an extended time.
To get to the hidden valley
I follow the natural curves.
At the hills I remain, likely
A little to long. The distance
Between here and there
Possibly three luscious feet.
There is a murmur from above
And a slight quiver from below
Ever so lightly I continue my journey
The end is near yet I do not hurry
I am a lover of anticipation and
When I feel a rumble beneath
My fingers I want to linger at the
Critical moment and play on forever.
.... endlessly longing
With the sun having set,
the moon grows steel
white and the flowers are
heavy with mist prompting
me to be sad and restless.
Since no one can deliver
to you the burden of my
song, perhaps it will float
over the mountains on an
autumn wind and you will
know: I'm endlessly longing
for a love seemingly far
away, beyond what's known
to man. My eyes that were
once sparkling are now a
deep well of tears. If you
should doubt this aching
in my heart, then you've
failed to look beyond the
color of my eyes.
Music of the Night
A melodic flute in the dark of night
Fireflies sparkling in rhythmic time.
Voices grow quiet all around.
Her solitary candle gleams as she
Plays on for the shadows alone.
Her wandering mind betrays her as
She thinks of cherished things. Gentle
Breezes pass through her window
She lay down her instrument and
Wishes it would play itself and accompany
Her thoughts of heated passion.
She Followed Her Heart
When I first saw her from a distance
she appeared bent and swaying
against the winds; a child of song,
and hypocrisy. At times she was
able to inhale purified air and
drink clear water from the well, but
still she couldn't see the way.
Unfulfilled she faithfully followed
her heart, opened her mind and
body, accepted the offered light
and energy that would guide
her path. Now she stands tall,
buffered against the winds and
words that would break her.
a moment in time (9)
moonlight on my tent
I thought it was frost
I opened my eyes
to look at the moon
closed them and
dreamt of you
Beautiful girl
what mysteries
exist beyond your smile
... and yet
Naked I dared glance in the mirror; startled, my body frightens me, my face drawn. Will I ever accept growing old? Spring has finally come yet I do not respond like days gone by. Winter's harshness has left me tired, too weary to pick up my pen. Still burdened by old sorrows the present day becomes unbearable. Past mistakes haunt me, and the sounds of night frighten me. My hollow eyes have grown hard from depression. It's a new spring day, but I have lost the ability to hope. Dreams are for the young not even memories of young love can allay my melancholy. As the hills and valleys begin to radiate color they invite me to hike but my bones prove brittle from apathy. And yet?
And yet I love the rays of the morning sun as it spreads its warmth over the awakening earth. I love to see the leaves of the aspen trees quiver as the breeze travels to the north, and at twilight the tall grasses wave as I stroll through the flowers eyeing the golden sunset that blankets the hills. And yet, once again, I must face my mirror in the morning light; reality will not be denied.
Apparition
Dark moonless night not even the
Slightest breeze to stir the leaves
Coyotes quiet listening for their prey
Tiny creatures scurrying about safely
Hidden in the shadow of clouds.
My love past away long ago but I
Have been too busy to say goodbye.
Finding my way home through deep
Woods a gentle wind glides through
The trees and a familiar whisper
Brushes the back of my neck.
What is she trying to tell me?
The Simple Life
I still love deep starry nights
Seasons of rebirth and seasons
Of plenty. I still see creatures
In clouds and unicorns running
In the fields. I still clearly hear
Spring peepers and the hum of
Honey bees. I still feel soft summer
Breezes and raindrops. I guess
I'll always love the simple life.
O' So Fast
Now
At winter's dawn
I face my
twilight years;
my time
having soared
headlong
towards the
long shadow
of my sunset.
Life has
raced passed me
like wildfire.
Finally One
Jolted awake by a bad dream
I awoke to wild flowers starting
to fade, in the fields grasses are
rusting and the trees are in full
autumn color. Surrounded by
the aroma of burnt incense I am
reminded that I had been asleep
oh so many years existing in a
world without meaning, without
hope. Now awakened I follow
the rays of the sun I am able to
taste the air, and feel the warmth
of the moon glow. Seeing beyond
myself, my heart explodes, now
I am forever one with you.
Time Passes
How do I hold back the passing day?
Clear is this night of the harvest moon
The aroma of decay from seasons past
Bring memories that have become
My present life and pushes me further
From the truth of the moment and
Ever closer to the fading light.
Chee-yun 1
a delicate flower
her violin resonates
throughout the world
unlike the cherry tree
which blooms once a year
you can taste the
sweetness of her notes
throughout the seasons
her music is august, ethereal
and unrestrained even when
cherry blossoms fall.
Chee-yun 2
deep into the night
alone in my bed
snow falling everywhere;
her music fills the room
and warms my soul.
enthralled I trust the wind
will carry my enchantment
to her as she plays her violin.
A New Day
Fireflies awaken as the sun
settles down revealing a halo
caressing the rising moon; rain
will come and cool the morrow.
Morning light brings me promise;
I leave my camp for there is no
use lingering there, my hopes
and dreams await further ahead
I Delayed
A dense alarming shadow
Lay heavily across my bed.
Many years ago I contemplated
A journey of thousands of miles
One that would take me far
Beyond even my imagination.
I delayed, tripping over life
Leaving haunting shadows
Of what might have been.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Capturing the Moments of a Contemplative Lifeby S.A. Stitz Copyright © 2011 by SA Stitz. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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