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Chief Editor
Dr Mike Ellis
Email: mindquest@

Lesley Pocock

Contact details
medi+WORLD International
572 Burwood Road
Hawthorn 3122,

Ph: +61 3 9819 1224
Fax: +61 3 9819 3269
Email: lesleypocock@

Michael Ellis


If fate could seal our lips

If fate could seal our lips
And portray our actions as prescribed
We could not speak out of turn
Or with free will our destiny defy
The onward march of change
Would not dignify for us a name
And the senses blunted would decry
The very essence of the humane
Godless creatures without a wit
We`d seek for justice and despair
If the wheel of karma is so strict

And yet we are but Gods
In the camouflage of men
And the feminine intuition
Is the guide for liberation
As when the leap is made
The birds do leave their cage

The sacred hall
Is this not a day to celebrate
As I sit behind the yawning doors.
Up the secluded mountain,
In the golden sunset.
When the high trees.
Are blown by temperate winds

Is there not.
A change on the horizon.
Do not jewels.
Reflect each other.
In the sunlight
Of a smile.

Do not candles.
Glow together.
Like kisses,
in the night

The night air is cold
up here
The mirrors reflect
The sacred hall
Only the gongs
Boom in silence

If your eyes betray you

If your eyes betray you.
Is it not.
Because your soul speaks aloud.
Even when
Conversing from a page?
As if reality is unbound.
Unrealised, and yet aware.
Have we not met somewhere.
If not in my dreams,
Then in the music.
Of a moonlit night?

Perhaps one day

I may know you.
The person under the skin.
The eternal hearts.
Beyond beginning -
Perhaps I may see
In your eyes.
Through the trees.
Past the fleeting clouds.
Of emotions, wrung with rain.
The person.
Quiet and clear,
Who is you.
How beautiful!!

How subtle and innocuous

A tantalising smile to appease
A sense of celebration and sobriety.
A splash of wine and cheese.
An undercover game.
Of Passion love and fame.
The game of life.
A subtle choice.
The winner loses.
The loser gains.
The Russian roulette.
The aches and pains.
The love which ripens
The eyes which meets
For in the sleeve.
Is the winning ace

Where do moon and sun reside

The patterning of the clouds
Sends shivers down my spine

My heart perplexed
Perceives ancient mandalas
An infusion of Yin and Yang

My feelings go awry
My thoughts are provoked
By that which is implied

This man hidden by clouds
I draw my mind through
To perceive my truth

He is etched briefly
In the teeming rain
Which washes the shadows away

I warm To You

Is not the diligence.
Of your mind
A calming precedence
Upon which to find.
A predisposition so kind.
That I warm to you.

Does not your spirit
And strength.
Like a rare document
Strengthen my wits.
And open my eyes.
And I warm to you.

Can we not, but meet
Under a clear starry sky.
Where the moon rises.
And with us
Let the moon conspire
And I warm to you.

And does not the rippling stream.
Of lotus leaves.
Hidden in the blue indigo night
Create a new sound.
And a fragrant, clear light
That I warm to you.