Bullion Grey Poems

I once met God in a country store.
I knew it was God.....I asked if I was worthy to go to heaven.
God's reply?
'Worthy is not what I look for, thats a human idea,
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No one invited me to my heart,
no one told me how to go,
didn't hear it in a song or seminar,
or read it in a poem;
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I measured the sea with a thimble,
tied water into a knot,
and put wind in a box,
froze smoke in my freezer;
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I took all my brain cells and put them in a pile.
I dug for good ideas, it took quite a while.
Found some old memories, some old lost thoughts,
some dried up, some soiled with spots.
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I am looking for a poem, written on a life.
It was a reaffirmation of a specific recommendation, something about rejuvenation. This actual riddle, hidden in this poem, tied by rhymn settled in prose had a notation without any vulgarization.
Long lost words, that of experimentation with a collective variation mean't to be a simplification of living a simple life.
Where is this poem written on a life?
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Once in this life,
death finally rattles the cage,
and off we are to destinations unknown.
We worked hard through our birth,
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I am searching for the poem, which addresses my life.
It should be a carefully written simple device.
Started when I just came about, after mother’s torrid delivery.
Simple with steps, and verse that wept, with strong inheritance.
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It is not sure this idea that we resulted
from a Grand Poem, uttered in the lips of the Divine.
Carried through the centuries, eons past all time, breathed
into our very soul's. A Poem so great it could not state the
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What was lost, wasn't.
What was stolen, remains.
What was removed, holds.
When I began to dream these truths it gave me solace.
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Hush! ,
Can you hear it?
Be still, can you hear, the music of the Silence?
The awesomeness, the clarity, of the Eternal Silence?
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