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This is a space where men can share their perspectives on their inner journey. The form can be prose, poetry, photographic or handcrafted images. The purpose is to stimulate, even minutely, the transformative process. All art strives to move us to a different place, that place of the soul, that initiatory space, where the call is heard and identity found. Please reverence the space by respectfully entering and sharing.

May, 2000

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standing at the precipice
on the chasm side of the rail
holding on with both hands
and leaning over space: wondering.
What would happen if I ever let
g__

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Your back is to the inland shore
the speeding, cramped world of society
seeking security no longer exists.
For these few moments, you are alone.

It is not yet dawn.

Who are you?
Who are you?
The spirit wants to know.
Who are you?
Who are you?
And how do you grow?

You are a creature
that has stumbled
from the sea,
soaked, but refreshed,
akin to the one-celled animals
that began your life-
to the chains of amino acids
that bind together
and create your life.
The blood surges
The mind reels
The Spirit feels.

It is not yet dawn.
Who are you?
Who are you?
So speaks the shore.
Who are you?
Who are you?
The question once more.

Alone, you return to the sea
and gently place your
fingertips
into the water,
put them gingerly
on your tongue.
The salt is familiar;
too much would kill,
but the right amount
has brought you life.
The life of the eons
written in the ions.

It is not yet dawn.

And soon you remember
that the sea that has
thrust you forward,
the magnificent huge body of water
that once possessed your soul and spirit
is itself a membrane in the universal eye.
Your soul cries out in fear
at its own smallness---
in wonder at the power of your mind
to possess the sea,
to possess the universe.

It is not yet dawn.

Who are you?
Who are you?
Are you ready to tell?
Who are you?
Who are you?
Are you heaven or hell?

Suddenly the fear and wonder are replaced
with a steady sureness
as light begins to replace the darkness.
The sea, meeting with the clouds,
The feel of sand beneath your feet
Your heart catching the rhythm of the waves,
All are given more kindly
with the coming of light.

and the dawn speaks quietly

And you know who you are
And you know who you are
you are one with the sea
that is one with the star

Quite sure by now,
you stand very still
and face the sea
with expectant eyes.
Searching out the pocket of sky
between the clouds,
you await the coming of the sun.

The first red rim begins to speak to you
in silent light
in your mind
blazing trumpets have begun their riff.

As the Arc grows
the spirit speaks louder
with the trumpets of the angels.
Finally at ease with the light the
melody becomes softer, less insistent.
You realize
the night has made love to the earth,
and given birth to the sun.

It is dawn.

Who are you?
Who are you?
The sun wants to know.

I am life
I am living
I am part of the flow.

Poems By Al McLaughlin