Category Archives: Spirituality

September 21, 2020 · 4:06 pm

Waiting – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Hardy Inlet looking up to the mouth of the Blackwood River, Augusta.

“Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside dreams. Who looks inside, awakens.” Carl Jung

Waiting

I no longer seek myself as I did
in those familiar places of
tired satisfaction and now
wholly abandoned to an
indifference to the 
paths and patterns that 
brought me to this once
hallowed mask of imagined
meaning made in endless
passionate clinging to the 
squawking of gulls,
until I floated off into a 
spaciousness that knows no
bounds, an inner sanctum
of patient waiting.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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September 17, 2020 · 2:30 pm

Of Threads – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Image: tomorrowstarted.com

“Breathe and let be.” Jon Cabat-Zinn

Of Threads

The point at which the
moment disappeared
is lost to me,
all that lingers is the feeling
of threads slipping, loosing, 
releasing me into a floating
drift in a space between
where I stretched out across
the sky so lightly that the stars
passed through me as
intangible procession,
and as the last thread unwound
I found myself beyond myself, 
I found myself true.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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September 1, 2020 · 3:48 pm

Alive – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: pixabay.com.

“We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell

Alive

Words fall like cold rain
from darkened opinions and the 
closed minds of guessing crowds
of discontent, who all along
skated the surface of books
hidden from the zest of life,
unable to recieve what is happening,
but for those who have shed their skin
and opened the eyes and ears of their heart,
everything is alive with the 
fire of doves and angels.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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August 31, 2020 · 3:13 pm

That Rouge Of Love – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: favim.com

“How many passions cling to this wanderer’s sleeves?” Ikkyuu

That Rouge Of Love

Amidst the pale blossom wild
you were everywhere I looked 
without looking at all when you
appeared in my jolted awareness,
where I had been waiting, though
not for you or so I thought and 
here was not the place of my dream,
we were not, and yet we were, 
there, across the bustle of the crowd,
inseparable, enjoined by the thread 
of destiny, that rouge of love.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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July 30, 2020 · 1:52 pm

Less Carefully – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: a road through the nature reserve Talgomine, near Nukarni.

“We meet ourselves time and again in a thousand disguises on the path of life.” Carl Jung

Less Carefully 

The soul of language
speaks my path into being as
I stand in my innermost self
seeking an image, words,
that I might transcend my
bolstered corner, that thwart
of life layered deeply,
that I might walk it
less carefully,
more with fiery blaze.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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July 29, 2020 · 3:16 pm

Again – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Daisies at Leda Nature Reserve, Wialki

“For a seed to achieve its greatest expression it much come completely undone.” Cynthia Occe 






Again

In a moment, it seemed,
the daisies arrived,
bright, luminous and
alive in colour that 
lifted my heart,
I sat with them long
as they flourished until,
just as suddenly, 
they faded and died,
and I grieved their loss
wondering what it was 
I had forgotten,
but then, just as quickly,
I remembered,
they would rise again.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		July 24, 2020 · 3:51 pm	


	
Just Glad – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		






Mish is hosting Open Link Night at dVerse Poets





dVerse Poets – Open Link Night 





Photo: pixabay.com










“Kai-ros: the perfect, delicate crucial moment, the fleeting rightness of time and place …..”  










Just Glad

How might I interpret the horizon
which once seemed so far away
but no longer sits in distant silence,
much closeer now to the urgency
of words stretched out in
nascent expressions of meaning
I had not anticipated and,
joyfully inviting a lyrical searching
that powerfully deepens,
even so, I cannot hold on to it,
I'm just glad I was here in this
place with this question,
not having to understand 
this moment.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		June 19, 2020 · 2:09 pm	


	
This Moment – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		

Frank at dVerse is hosting Meet The Bar and has invited us to write a poem in the vogue of ‘imagism’ (e.g. Pound, Williams and etc.). dVerse Poets










Photo: pixabay.com










“Our world is at the crossroads.”  LL COOL J










This Moment

This moment is the moment,
and nothing of surprise,
to be in this space,
this place we dread,
its tensioned uncertainty,
this moment of burdens
unreleased and pressing
on conscience everywhere,
this moment of crossroads
an eon chancing change
after many trials,
this moment in my eye is
a twinkling of goodness,
the moment of all moments,
is this moment now.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

			

	
	

		
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		May 27, 2020 · 4:15 pm	


	
There Was A Room – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		
dVerse Poets – Poetics – Make Me Some Room


Laura at dVerse has invited us to write about a room or rooms in whatever manner.


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Image: wakeup-world.com


 


“I am not absent-minded.  It is the presence of mind that makes me unaware of everything else.”  G.K. Chesterton


There Was A Room


Once,

I had memories of an outside world

that I never left, but never lived

since the solace of solitude

there was another place,

my room within a room,

I vaguely remember,

was it large or small,

attic or other?

To know is never important

whether the room was in me

or I in the room,

there was a room.


©Paul Vincent Cannon


Paul, pvcann.com

			

	
	

		
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		May 12, 2020 · 3:21 pm	


	
The Singer Of Love Songs – prose by Paul Vincent Cannon
	

		
dVerse Poets – Prosery


Bjorn at dVerse has invited us to write a piece of prose including the line “His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream” from Maya Angelou’s ‘Caged Bird’


OIP.314XAAIsXP6qkOOD6f7sVgHaFi.jpeg


Image: yogamountainstudio.com


 


“Hope is a waking dream.”  Aristotle


The Singer Of Love Songs


O the singer of love songs, his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream in the middle of a fire, in the middle of a torrent, a tumult. And there the scattered bones of love mock his impertinent hope beyond broken idols and lost moments that speak of eternal anguish. His is no ordinary voice. His hope is never quenched by that malady of darkness. He dares to speak of tomorrow as if nothing else were sure at all, that indeed, nothing else matters. His voice is clothed in a raiment of beauty that lifts the soul like one transported by an angelic choir to a joyful ether of heart, away from the mocking shadows of doubt. O the singer of love songs, his shadow shouts into light as soft caress of l’armour, desiring the world to rise in love and sing together once more.


©Paul Vincent Cannon


Paul, pvcann.com

			

	
	

		
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