The world sees your calamity

“The world sees your calamity
but it will never know the victory

of the valor that brought your loss!

---upon this wooden tablet lock my hands, 

purge my lips, and kill the hero of this war!”

--W. Garcia 

“… the hero of this war.”

A hero is a hero!

He lives on in my thought

Whether seen and heard

Or unseen and unheard,

My hero is the imperishable man!

How then could dignity be lost?

Limbs gone, is forlorn …

Not able to freely stand ...

Physicality's pain "bourn"

Can truly this define man?

When echoes of body cease,

Well, then in a breath, I see

Man's majesty:

His glory

And endurance

His goodness

Committed

In bravery, (bless him!)

His strength  

Of character

Deeper than the Sea,

And thus the height

Of his intelligence,

Richer than all blinding might.

All show forth the way ...

“I am who I am, a man!”

The inner voice will say.

Preoccupied with physicality

Can turn any man into a clod,

Ahhh...

But spirituality

Brings out the likeness of God!

Take the divine path.

 “Escantadora”:

I like the name you did give me,

The sound of it

To my listening ear—

Rings like a bell

Which plainly sings,

“Let Love, God, your prime

Adoration …

To be your heart's rhyme!”

--eva-maria hogrefe

(July 22, 2012)

Dear heart ...

There are too many

Obstacles that hinder

Our debt to friendship

So young and brief, 

However, my soul is ready

To spread its wings to fly

To your honeycomb

Into the hive of silence,

And there I drink

Sweet nectar made sweeter

From your boundless loving

I discover in your words.

Ah! They fuse with the sound

Of brooklets’ clear waters

Flowing/gurgling,

Sparkling,

Being heard in many voices, 

Everywhere a delight!-- 

Seeing wonders

Of tall stones in sunlight,

Isolated as we are

Snow-covered mountains,

Still. 

There echoes a gentle melody, "... dear heart, mon ami!”

Rivers winding through

Earth and rocks,

Cascading into meadows

Of butter-colored blossoms --

All nature locks you

Into peace, thus then follows 

A gentle breathing in,

Even if it brings me

Little comfort,

I’m breathing out,

Because you still

An absent friend!

 As I was taking a boat journey on the Vierwaldstaettersee near Luzern, I composed this poem. On a clear window across me a honey bee tried to find her way to freedom.

--eva-maria hogrefe

(May 2012)

You are so silent --

I see veils dropping off

One by one in the weaving

Lights … perceived

In those love-thoughts

Of a true heart …  

Ahhh … today it is—

This my contemplation

For you and I:  

Thou O LOVE, divine

The joy we seek,

Thou art the Joy--

Which does us feed!

--eva-maria hogrefe

(June 14, 2012)

The Devotion of a Friendship

O Friend! May to you be revealed, 

Even if just a fragment of that which 

My inner Self contains, but

If rephrased by limitations, 

Altered to just flesh and bones;

An erroneous view, and thus evil’s throne,

Which raises hordes of mortal strain.

But when I in Thy blessed light remain,

I be as a flower on an altar without stones,

Blessed in the silence of my soul, 

A boundless all-embracing inner world,

Thy kingdom, and my hidden Pearl, 

Where all our communications are alive,

Not setting cautious boundaries, 

But instead with the words, "Thee we be"--  

An acceptance of "tat tvam asi" -- 

The eternal Spirit we then express,

Covered under the white cloak of humility.

--eva-maria hogrefe—

(February 20, 2012)

Making the Sad and Weeping Smile

Making the Sad and Weeping Smile

I warmly greet thee with garlands

Of fragrant white blossoms,

And deeply bow ...

Discerning an expansive inner sky

Full of substance of spiritual manna, 

The strength of freedom in mind,

With thought full of wisdom

Humming a song of the wise

And a melody of subtle supply

That make us shine by borrowed light,

Reflecting the Love that is our Mind!

The Beloved is calling, because

All must be of God, not a muddle

Of devout and human perceptions, 

Or whatever errs; hence mortal

And thus of our own thinking 

And wooing, fallaciously designed—

Such sensory disturbances

Try to agitate the river of mind, 

As if separated from the ocean 

Of true Love-substance or Life.

O glorious Omnipresence, 

The fire of remembrance for Thee

Let not be blown out by the flurry

Of stormy unsettling acidity!

Every pure thought, every grace,

And loving embrace, are helping 

To lead us, as a polar star does guide

A lost ship through a turbulent sea;

Let us hear Love’s still small voice, 

And retrace our footsteps to our home

Of Peace within, ahh ... feel the Sublime!

--eva-maria hogrefe—

(February 2012)

The Babe in the Crib

The Babe in the Crib

Below a window in a warm stall, the heavenly child

Lying in a straw-filled crib looks up and smiles.

The smile has a radiance of its own

Wherein I find all goodness and beauty

Of the living Christ -- man in God’s likeness --

Ah, as such I delight!  Shining brighter

Than that eminent star in the sky; here on earth

The child in flawlessness growth – his humility and

Might, I am instructed by, for the child

Within me gives ear to his word, and as I 

Receive it I am stirred.  For I know

That his wise teachings enrich

My heart -- and I in wisdom grow.

God’s child knows it all.

--eva-maria hogrefe—

(2010)

Mary of Magdala

MARY OF MAGDALA

With tears flowing, in meekness Mary stands

Silently, face covered with her hands.

Strange, Simon the host—firm and stout,

Fails to give due respect

To his honored guest, Jesus of Nazareth,

Who “full of grace and truth,”*

Not offended, loves the Pharisee as he loves

Those who cold of heart leave love behind,

As Judas did, the moral dwarf of deceptive mien.

But Mary Magdalene, he loves

As she loves him; with a love profound

He teaches her on sacred ground

That Love is Life—(O heavenly sound!)

Mary’s love-filled devotion found

An unconditional love in him,

Which long she had anticipated—

For her to meet true love was fated.

“Sit down and hear what I have to say:

From you who have been sorely tried,

Doubt and fear will swiftly fly,

And brief will be your grief.

Trust well and love serenely,

Embrace a matter-free thought keenly,

And follow me to find the faculty

Of spiritual perception, that healing path

Called Resurrection!”

She, bearing witness to his truth, replies:

“I will not fear the darkest night,

Beloved, dearest Master!”

Forgotten were mind’s sore vexations

As morning turning bright before her eyes,

Mary, most pure of heart, not shrinking,

Beholds first the risen Christ—

He, who loved her holy, who did not blink,

Nor judge, but recognized

A love-sustaining spirituality

Within her humble soul confined.

Weeping, she hears one calling, “Mary!

Tell me: Whose shape, dearest, do you see?”

“Rabboni! From heaven’s splendid fold, clearly

I see your Christly form appearing warm, not cold.”

Upwards bend, as a bird soaring into the sky’s vaults,

The spiritual flight of thought goes on within

Love’s liberating Mind—and never halts!

*   John 1:14

--eva-maria hogrefe--

(October 24, 2009)