blackmail press 26
David Phillips
New Zealand

from: Angipanis of the Abanimal People - Andy Leleisi'auo
David Phillips is an Australian who lives in Nelson with his family and works as a lawyer. These poems come out of wonderful adventures with friends in the Maya lands of Mexico, Guatemala and Honduras.
There Is A Moment

There is a moment in the flight of a bird on the wing
Where poise and balance is momentarily so complete
That time seems to stop as all falls into an awakened state of grace.
There is a moment in the windswept movement of the tall poplar trees
When the surge and sway of the restless rushing wind
Hits a tone and pitch so resonant
That amidst the roaring earth breathing is a point of silence:
Stillness, silence, full and complete.
There is a moment amongst the cacophony 
Of the seeming contradictory and chaotic theatre of contemporary daily life
Right there beneath it all
As at the still ocean floor looking up to the swirling rolling sea above:
A state of peace and tranquillity
A simple abiding
In gratitude and appreciation
Restful and ready to be taken home.

Easter Sunday In Paradise

On top of the far hill
  stand some juniper trees
  with odd shaped forms.

  suggests a tall old man
  pointing skywards
  to the ocean of clear blue above.

  the hill top craggy junipers,
Sit a cluster of elms and poplars
  resplendent in their lovely
  autumnal dress,
Colouring our world
  with their timeless beauty.

Sitting awhile
  with my love
  by the pond side,
  the gardens
  and the beauty
  all around.

We sit outside time
  and soak in
  the clear crystalline
  energies of the day.

This morning
  is so very peaceful:
  tranquillity itself.
Ones attention
  is immediately drawn
  to unusual depths
  and rich appreciation
  for the gentle
  radiance and beauty
Of the family of trees,
  birds, pond waters,
  and blue sky father above.

  they hold us all
  in this garden of delight
  and tranquillity.
  on Easter Sunday,
  we feel the present hand
  of Jeshua,
  the Christed one.

TIKAL: Remembering…

Shrouded in mist
Home to mystery and hidden voices.
You call to me
Jungle draped Mother
  of vast and mighty temples
Challenging as they soar
  Towards the Sun.

As I walk these ancient
  pathways now,
Do I hear echoes of my brothers
As we stepped together down these trails
So long ago
  when we lived and loved
  and studied here together
  in your university* of higher learning.    
           [* Universe- City..?]

Was it here
   in these awakened plazas
The starry heavens bespoke their wisdom
    and the Earth Mother
    unfolded herself in
    all her mystery and
    deep knowing ways.

Did we, as children,
  lie here together
  beneath the Pleadian
  jewelled night sky
And be lost in Wonder
  and found in Gratitude
As our young hearts
  strove to expand to
  contain All.

And in your corners of
  deep peace and tranquillity
Do I remember diving deep
  and learning to flow and fly.
In this place
  of tall stone temples
  and soaring ceiba trees
Did we young ones
  learn always to look
  upwards to the sky and trust in the way.
O home of many teachings,
Disrobe for us
Unveil your mysteries
  for all
  to come and know.