Poems and Ponderings

– a collage of some of my thoughts and feelings on and around our Journey

All poems and artwork ©2015, David P. Crews, CrewsCreative

Find me a God with whom to struggle

And I shall gladly play for truth

And an end to our tears.


Let Him stand forth

And I shall measure His foot.


I shall show Him our children,

Both bright of eye and broken



And I shall require of Him

His name.

–David P. Crews


Old Stories


Which way does the wind blow now,
You robe-wrapped men – your minds caught
Like kites tugging solid at a cord?

The shape of your faith forms around
That air – that air rising steady from the
Old times, from old minds whom
You can never question.

Praise and glories freely leap from your
Self-conscious lips, but I can see that source
Of the things which you presume–your
Foundation and hope; anchor and root.

I see it now, ancient thread, humming
Thinly in the always present breeze.
Oh, if you could see it. How
Frail and shimmering in the light!

Oh, if you could see how those old men
Have woven that string, that long thin
Thing you hook your mouth onto.
I see you: now flying out, now depending – limp.
And so you shall never demand its true beginning.

You cannot let loose of it as I have done.
You fear the freedom of the air. It seems
Death to you. you need the strand that ties
You to the old men who whisper the old
Stories. The tales that have been passed by
Many tongues in far and alien lands.

You think those stories are yours. They come
To you up the line. You are connected to them,
But they are not what you believe them to be.
They are older than the whisperers. They have been
Whispered before by others not of your kind.

I fear you, brothers, for I know the comfort
Of that breeze. I know how it steals and how
It murmers the lies of our desires.

I flee from you, blind fish, that I may
Sail in the open air and see with
Unburdened eyes, and ask the
Forbidden questions you would let go.

An ill wind blows up the pass of time
If we should gape and swallow – hanging
Ourselves merrily from a cord.


–David P. Crews - August, 1999


Truth in a Strange Land

Truth alone shall appease this needful thirst.
Aloof and intimate.
Content with only that roaring revelation –
Hard and cold.
It stings like dissappointment - the price
Extracted from my past.
Closing and opening.
Deep and serious mystery. Clear light glory!
Laid out before me – seeker and supplicant to
That God only.

I shed my dear beliefs as rent clothing
Slipping from straining muscles.

The new Truth is old. Shining and disturbing.
Old and very new.
Raw-nerved, I reach forward to hold, delicately,
The next awe –
An unexpected vista stretching on to newer rules.

Another geometry.

–David P. Crews - February, 1999


Which, then, shall you choose to make?

Why create a hell as the small man does at every turn?
Is it not more wise to live in heaven with your own good counsel
and happy will?

The first step is to declare heaven into existence.


David P. Crews - July, 2000


When a wise man offers up a diamond, people smile and walk away. They cannot see the precious thing, gleaming in his hand, or if they do, they think it false.

I tell you that enlightenment is not nirvana, not becoming nothing or something else.

Enlightenment is living fully in this moment.


And yet, you smile.


David P. Crews - June, 2001


Stars Within Us


Are we so small?
And yet are we many,
Oh so many, glowing here and there?
Bodies of intricate illusion,
Tiny swirls of light and bone?
Each contains a galaxy.

Breath and beat, independent
Engines that move us,
Just like all the others.
Fear and happiness
Shaping the face
Our mind looks out of.

Step within to see the trick.
Vastness. Volume –
Filled with stars.
Each the color of a memory.
Ideas cluster and flare: suns
Lighting the dark lanes.

Hard and cold planets, some
Massive and others minor;
Worlds of water and storms;
Orbs of unspeakable beauty,
Filled with people and stories;
Turn themselves ’round
And whirl within.

Some we craft with careful
Intention, spinning each one
Lovingly. Returning there,
Spending time, comforted –
Renewed by loved lands and faces.

Others, uncalled for,
Rush up to surprise us –
Alien visions within our domain,
We wonder who made these
Worlds we did not plan.
Our galaxy is so vast.

The stars within swirl right around
And sing the strands of Life.
They swirl right ’round:
An unexpected gleaming nebula
Clothed in humble membrane.

An unchartable symphony,
An unexpected dimension within.
A million million stars and worlds
Dance and turn about
An invisible Center,
An obscured Mystery.

We are many and oh so small,
And when each one is no more,
A wide galaxy, a very Universe
Transforming, winks away
Into unknown night.

–David P. Crews, 2013


The Shape-shifter’s Tale
(a fragment of a myth)

He asked the Turtle, “Would you like to learn about things? Would you like to see what the world looks like for a horse?”

The Turtle replied, “A horse? That big thing? I don’t know what that would be like. It is too different from being a Turtle.”

“Yes, but you would learn what it is like!”

“I like being a Turtle. Turtle makes sense. Turtle is comfortable and safe.”


He approached the Horse. “Would you like to learn about things? Would you like to see what the world looks like for a Sparrow?”

The Horse whinnied at him and said, “Neigh! – OK, that was a joke. So is that little Sparrow. I’m a Horse and I am happy to be a Horse. That’s the mane thing!” And he whinnied several more times causing the Sparrow to fly away in disgust.

He did not bother to remind the Horse that he might learn what other things are like.

He came up to the Boy and said, “Would you like to learn about things?” The Boy smiled at him, so he continued, “Would you like to see what the world looks like for a Lion?”

The Boy said, “I AM a Lion!!” and, still smiling, he ran around the meadow making a roaring sound. . .

–David P. Crews




A lifetime of knowledge earned

Along the paths of wisdom,

Will one day surely seem to you

Quite meager and in vain.

Not because you have failed to learn,

But that the universe has opened up

Infinitely before you.

–David P. Crews


Life is not a movie, projected onto you,

or a story with a plot unfolding

with you and I inside it, waiting

for what happens next.

Life is a sculpture,

and you hold the living stone

in your hands, to shape

each day in unique fashion.


–David P. Crews, January 2001


The present moment is not mundane. It is, in essence, extraordinary. -DC

Comments or questions:

Previous Page

Next Page


Home | Joy of Disillusionment? | Just Like A Divorce | Contemplation of Annihilation
Consecration of Consciousness | Behold This Day | Parable of The Prosperous Son | My Journey
Poems & Ponderings | Things to Read |
Conversations With You

All content, text, and images on this site ©2015 David P. Crews, CrewsCreative, Austin, Texas. All rights reserved.
Contact us for permissions to repurpose or use any content.