We here at Joydancer discovered a computer file where don Allan had been saving little poems that he had written. We asked him if we could publish some of our favorites here, and he agreed. He expresses his devotion to his Beloved here in the same simple way that he lives that devotion: Allan's Beloved is all around him because he loves to love — he knows he is the Lover and the Beloved. [jd]

 


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This new book by Allan Hardman details the healing path from
Victim to Warrior, from powerless
to empowered, told through the tradition of the Toltecs of Mexico. Read more...

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God is Sitting at
the Side of your Bed

God is sitting at the side of your bed
waiting for you to open your eyes
and wake up.

God is patient.
There is no time.

Wake Up! Wake Up!
There is no time to waste.

Your time is Now.

When you stir,
God smiles.

When you open your eyes,
and see Yourself,

You smile.

Wake Up! Wake Up!

God is sitting at the side of your bed,
Waiting for you to open your eyes and see Yourself.

Wake Up! Wake Up!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Watch Me

Watch me, said the creek
as she slid past a curve in the bank, caressing the graceful contours as though they were her own.

Watch me, said the creek,
as she tumbled over and around the rocks, touching roughly, wearing away,
and yet softly, hardly touching at all.

Watch me, said the creek,
as she slowed and stopped
in the deep and silent pool,
quietly resting before she tumbled on.

Watch me, said the creek,
I am the water and I am the bank,
I am the hardness of the rocks and
I am the silence of the pool.

The nature of my existence is love,
for I am one with all that is.

There could be no creek without a bank, and no silent pool without the rocks.

I am you, and you are me.
Let us make love with each other, gently caressing our graceful curves and tumbling around our hard rocks.

Let us make love with each other,
in the silent pool of life's mystery.

Join me, said the creek, and let us make love with each other, knowing that we are one, and that our nature is love.

At Your Door

I stumble into your hidden abode bloodied and bedraggled by a world that knows only strife.

It's a jungle out there! I cry out,
as I collapse into your presence.

Hark, I hear the hoofbeats of my oppressors fading to the distance.
Let us fly to your chambers, whilst there is a moment's rest.

Soothe ye my battered limbs,
and apply the healing balm of your touch to the turmoil of my fearful heart.

I cannot stay long,
for the battle rages without,
and I must join in.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Beloved Said to Me

May your dreams be rich
And your rest deep.

May you arise ready
For a brand new world.

Because tomorrow's day
Is the only one scheduled

And I have arranged it
Just for you.

IN love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

For My Beloved

You are a gem among gems,
Precious in your bright reflection
Of every light.

The light within you beams outward as if to say, COME,
I will embrace you in this love.

The delicate warmth of your touch, Your tender smile, speak to the gentle Spirit that animates your heart.

You are good, as good as it gets,
And that is the message that beams Out from the essence of who you are.

I bask in that light,
I delight in that love,
Whether from close or afar.

I know it is there,
I know its beauty.

You are my Beloved.
You are The Beloved.
And you are here, with me.

Always.