hut, I thought what was being written was a new testament
of the Holy One. I was going to call it the New Testament, but that seemed
outrageous... and I was trying not to do any more outrageous
things for a little while.
The Cliff-Top writings from that sacred site of power,
I guess "Hymns from Temple's Gate" will do as a name
for now.
The writings were certainly
done in the spirit of hymns
I'll type at least some of the cliff-top text every few days and post it...
______________________________
_______________
Forgiveness remains in the world,
After the True One has left;
How could He ever go away
And leave his children bereft?
For without True Knowledge
How can one ever live?
Need one go to college
To learn how to give?
Forgiveness remains in the world
So long as there is something to forgive.
(C) 2000 by William G. Milne
All rights reserved.
_____________________________________________________________
I'm picking and choosing verses according
to what appeals to me today. Some of the
verses appear overly simplistic, but I could
be wrong.
2
Perhaps you have not heard Her name;
It is a sickness to Forget;
For the healthy man remembers
There is One more strong than death.
There is one True Physician
She will cure your needs;
She will administer unto you
He protects your Seed.
He has always known you,
Though perhaps you have never met;
He does not forget you,
Though you tend to forget.
He is the true Physician,
She is the angel of the night.
He is the true Musician;
She walks the neon lights.
They are waiting for you
This True One we shall call two;
One is waiting for you
While you are wondering what to do.
There is a glance of recognition
There will be no mistake
Just as he who eats the pastry
May meet He who bakes the cake.
She walks with fishnet stockings;
A red dress and high-heel shoes.
He is also fishing
The two they fish for you.
To whom then will you listen?
At the ending of the night?
Will you hear dogmatic positions?
Or will you know an Inner Light?
The neon light is shining
Beside a streetcar named despair;
You don't need to tell me
Who is walking there.
About the poem, The Song of Truth.
I wrote it on the rocks of the cliff, just at the edge of some heavy bush.
The wind was blowing in gusts and my hands were cold. The pine trees near me
leapt about in the wind. I could look down from the cliff and look
at the treetops of the forest below.
It was a strenuous walk to get back to the cabin, so I kept using
this blunt black pencil... writing into a hardcover notebook. Each verse filled
a whole page - a pretty crude attempt at scratching down a message.
The rhythm and rhyme you could find in any
Hallmark greeting card. At
first glimpse the poem looks like doggerel ...
That is, until you read a few verses
and you see intelligence at work in the poem.There's a profundity of thought
you won't find in any greeting card store I'm not
comparing myself to William Blake, but the
simplicity of the language in "Auguries of innocence" ...
come to mind.
Remember this was written in the bush and
I was sitting on a rock... and I was blown away by the experiences
I had been having in there...Also,
I was in a very pure place within. I was an empty vessel.
I had been hollowed out almost at birth and now I was cauterized
with Spirit, as I worked on these materials.
I didn't take a lot of breaks....The situation seemed too
urgent to me.
The voice that was speaking through me had to be
heard. As I confronted these newly discovered ancient gospels,
for sure I wasn't writing all the passages.
cold and I was writing with a blunt pencil, which I kept
sharpening on rocks... I didn't want to break the
flow.
The Song of Truth is fourteen pages long, and may
well need some careful editing. I won't attempt it now, because
I'm living in the midst of electronic devices and media,
and my mind feels clouded.
In other words, I'm not smart enough for the task!
. I just noticed a verse I like:
The Answer to the Problem
Philosophers wrestle with:
The Answer to the Problem
Is that no Problem exists.
(C) 1980 by William G. Milne
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