Poetry and Philosophy
by Spirit with Brian Dean

A rose by any other name, would still smell as sweet. One might consider that poetry, not just words. But everything is poetry, not just words.

The movement of the sun across the sky is just so matching and poetic. The fall of rain from darkened skies cleansing the soiled ground. The movement of all bodies in the universe, as well as all bodies interacting with each other, with nature upon the planet.

Each movement we make has its poeticness about it, how we interact with others, with ourselves, with nature. Everything moves. Everything interacts. Everything has a purpose, and an intention, and a harmony through the interactions of all things. We blend, we bounce, we feel, we hide, we stand tall. We feel strength. We feel failure. This too is balance, and poetry.

Poetry has to balance with the proper interactions of things, how they come together, what they mean, how they grow and progress. You think of them in words, or rhyme where things build to a certain conclusion, a meaning, a point.

But words are not all that is poetry. Poetry is cause and effect, the interactions coming to conclusions, pushed by meaning, making points, creating growth. That is more poetry than anything you could write down.

Oh you, on the human level only see so far, and with such limited interpretation. Look beyond what you think you see. Allow new perceptions to enter your consciousness , feel beyond what you think your scope of feeling is . Then you open to the mind of the universe. Yes, the universe.

The universe with all its complexities, with all its movement and balances is a blending, and poetic in itself. But then when you look beyond the normal, beyond what you have been taught, and open your mind to things beyond the physical, then you see the integration of all things , the movement of all things going by, interacting as they should. This filters down to your level as words and feelings, and you make the best of it that you can. But know that while you may feel a small thing in this concept, you are an integral part. You blend and make the whole what it is.

And as the rose grows, and blooms, and then withers, so do you, leaving some mark on the landscape of what was your life. And that is poetry indeed.