Wednesday, January 8, 2014


 This poem is the conclusion of the eighth book
of a series of poems I started years ago.
These books,also, require editing...
but this one ties things up rather neatly.
                         Happy New Year to All!

                Finding Home

The peace that passeth understanding
And that place, this place,
This state of soul, heart-mind above
This realization, soul state
         thru Grace
Can really be reached
All that is necessary is utter trust
          and giving over completely
To your Self, the True One, the Christ
          the One who we are
           and who is with us

Finally Odysseus
Traveller on uncharted, wine-dark
Seas, comes Home,
Beyond confusion:
And Home is not a place
But a state of soul.

                                                     (C)2014 by William G. Milne

Wednesday, January 1, 2014


        I had an exuberant New Year's Eve last night, so
now I can barely see the keys. I thought I'd share
with you a few more verses from, "The Song of Truth".
It's hard for me to believe, but it was written 34 years 
ago, when I was young and strange and ready for
 mystical experience. I guess I'm wiser now.
Though my mind was sharper then.
        I know this rhyme is not very clever. But it
is what it is:

He who Knows the new Rising
Need never set in the West;
This is the lost horizon
And the new land is the Best.

For now we have reached the indies
We set sail so long ago;
And now that we have the Spice
       of the East
One knows what we needed to know.

Here, beyond lost horizens 
We find a Place of Rest;
Here is the harbour that was promised us
Wherein there is no death.

For this is the final Pleasure
Here at the End of the world;
Here they will find True Leisure
Here is the story unfurled.

This is the End of the Story
That Ends and Begins with the Truth;
All you who eat of His Vineyard
All you who eat of His Root

You will Know the Tress unfolding
Know it by its Fruit;
You will Know the whole story told
 Out of the annals of Truth.

If these Words have no Wisdom
Then cast this Book in the fire;
But if any of these words taste of the Truth
You will know I am not a liar.

These are the True Words only
That speak from the Beginning of Time;
If you will know your End, alone,
You will know your own Mind.

There is a place at the world's End
 Amid the seasons of change,
Amid the multicoloured whirling dance
Amid the pleasures and pain

There is a Place at the World's End
Amid birth and death;
Here is the Place at the world's End
Here is the Place of Rest.

Here, in the Place at the world's End
Around which spins unending strife,
Here is the Place at the world's End
Where One finds Eternal Life.

And so these Words are written
These words shall testify
To One who is begotten
And One who never dies;

And , yes, you may know His children
Amid the streets you may see them;
They are the ones who do not attempt
To seem better than other men.

For His children are givenm His wisdom
They know there is no need to Fear.
You will not see these ones fighting
To find something more dear.

They already have their Jewel
 At the core of the flowering World.
WEhat do they need? Their renewal
Is done. They have their Pearl.

But O you restless ones
Who still continure to seek
For that Treasure that dies not
 Which no worm may eat

If you are not certain that you did find
That Wisdom at the core of the Mind;
Then search farther; you must journey yet,
There is One who is waiting,
Whom you haven't met.