CLOSE THE CIRCLE

 

 You won’t find yourself

Until you have found God.

You won’t find God

Until you have found yourself.

Close the circle.

 II

When you find life,

Realizing it within yourself,

When you have found the way,

Then you will know the Way is in you.

Close the circle.

 III

When you keep sifting for the truth,

You will see find it looking through you.

It hasn’t been recognized for eons.

But when the Wheel that has made

Countless rounds, weaving your story,

Makes its last round, it reveals your glory.

Close the circle.

 IV

When your thirst finds itself satisfied,

You will know that the water was inside.

You will have wandered through many deserts,

You will then see fountains there all the while.

Close the circle.

 V

When you have shoveled all the deserts’ sands,

You will find nourishment for many lands.

When you find exactly what you’re looking for,

“Behold, the Beast inside!”

Then you will be looking at YOU.

Close the circle.

VI

In your dreams, you see sublime, then frightening images

That disturb many of your waking hours.

In your dreams, you often run from bestial creatures.

Or you long for celestial waters to cover you.

Close the circle.

 VII

You peer into self-created corridors of darkness,

Straining the Soul's ear as the little bird sings.

Taxing the mind’s eye. Hush. The little one sings.

She sings such lovely, harmonious melodies

From somewhere far away yet very nearby.

Far away, yet near, somewhere, within the soul

 VIII

When you have finally found her,

You will then be at the end,

The beginning of your quest.

Your zest is the quest for life.

The little bird will then be able

To spread her wings and fly.

Close the circle.

 IX

When she is miraculously

Liberated from the cage

That your mind has trapped

Her freedom in,

Then you will understand

The origin of your dreams.

And you will understand

The many, many, many suns.

Close the circle.

 X

When you sometimes feel like

Death is near, no, here now.

Ready to overtake you,

To replace your life with it.

You wonder why you feel a

Strange exhilarating joy at

The possibility of death, a

Stepping-stone, life, death;

Death, life.

Close the circle.

XI

Such alien and familiar

Subliminal melodies she sings.

They thrill you like they are your

Songs, songs you have sung.

Having gotten lost in the

Maze of misinterpreting life,

You neglected to cultivate what

Has always been the lyrics of the soul.

Close the circle.

 XII

But when you struggle and pry

On the wrong doors,

She faints from loving sorrow,

She falls to the floor.

The flour of your soul. But she is

Always revived by a Power

That is her own. She is the reigning

Queen; she is the Queen of the Soul.

Close the circle.

 XIII

She scratches sometimes just to

Get your attention.

When you find yourself taking

The wrong roads.

She’s rising to break free. Set her free

From the cage of ignorance.

From sheer grief, she falls to the

Floor, disturbing the soul.

Close the circle.

 XIV

The bird sings her woeful melodies;

She is song. She must sing.

She will sing; she is Queen. She is

Faithful, dutiful, beautiful.

She must sing. You cannot live

Without song in the soul.

She occupies her place regally.

She is guardian of the soul.

Close the circle.

XV

When in the beginning you started

Your very long, yet short,

Journey to where you are going –

Where you have already been,

You have the answer then to

What you are looking for.

You left your answer on your journey

That will bring you to it again.

Close the circle.

 XVI

The point in the journey from

Which you began

Is the point in the journey

Where the Prodigal Son ends.

The end is the beginning, and

The beginning is the end.

The circle of life is LOVE.

You will meet yourself again.

Close the circle.

 XVII

Your destination is your

Beginning; find it again.

When you find it, you will be

At the beginning again.

When you find the beginning in

Making your rounds in the circle,

You will see the One in whose image

You are made, the images you have seen.

Close the circle.

 XVIII

You will know the riddles that you

Can interpret in your dreams.

You will know the abominable characters

That disturbed your dreams.

When you come to know who is in the

Middle of the circle,

You will know why, then, and you, too,

Will sing what the lady bird sings.

 XIX

When you have opened the portal

Resident in the Soul,

Then, you will know and understand

What makes you sometimes feel so old.

The answers enlarged themselves

But remained untold,

Because they were answers to a

Question, which question is Soul.

Close the circle.

~~Mary Frances Handy (Before-1982)

(Mary Handy Moore)

MISTY, NASTY, GHASTLY MYSTERY

Today, the world is misty.
The world outside is nasty.
The ghosts inside are ghastly.
How to uncover the mystery?

I wish I could see more clearly.
I wish I understood what I heard.
I wish it didn’t give such a scare.
I wish I could dare.

Sheets of ice unfold upon a sordid sea.
Heavily smudged as a soiled quilt.
Having eyes yet failing to see.
Caught up in cold, wet-hot clutches.

Going down into secret madness.
Sinking unwillingly into such
Has the makings of much sadness.
No light, no will; no, not much.

Going down, there is a ray of light!
Gone down, it is a foolish thing.
Down in the abyss, try to take flight!
But deep within are atrophied wings.

Time is wasted in useless regret.
The heart is weakened by needless stress.
The mind withered by agonizing fret.
The whole of it is an unholy mess.

~~Mary Frances Handy (pre-1982)

(Mary Handy Moore)

THEY ALL DIED ON EASTER SUNDAY, JESUS ROSE ON THE SABBATH DAY.

Following April 19, 2026, after 31-year-old Shamar Elkins of Shreveport, Louisiana, took the lives of his seven children and a cousin, all young children, and then either killed himself or was shot by authorities, I found this poem pinned to a clipboard waiting to be added to my notebook again. It was written decades ago. The past week brought us together again. Over the years, when I’d come across this poem in my notebook, I’d wonder sometimes what incident or circumstances inspired it. I put it down to the knowledge of mental illness in my own family, which has brought much heartache to us in ways nobody shares or talks about, which means in some cases that “it didn’t happen,” but it did.

 Also, after reading every entry I can on his Facebook pages, attempting to get more clarity about this darkness that overtook a whole family and is causing torment to a whole community of mourners, I am understanding more about it. Origins. I’ll self-talk in writing about this more at another time.

 The children’s names and ages. Say their names:

SHAMAR ELKINS’ CHILDREN WITH WIFE Shaneiqua Pugh Elkins

• Jayla Elkins, 3
• Shayla Elkins, 5
• Kayla Pugh, 6
• Layla Pugh, 7
• Markaydon Pugh, 10

SHAMAR ELKINS’ THREE CHILDREN WITH CHRISTINA SNOW

• Sariahh Snow, 11
• Khedarrion Snow, 6
• and Braylon Snow, 5

 Say his name if you honestly can. (But by grace there go I):

 Shamar Elkins. Thank him for his service. He was hopeful and prayed to God about it to the end. But, like beloved Whitney Houston, he was not strong enough in faith and lost his battle, but not the war.

No Luxuries Allowed

Bring all but luxuries, treasures, and money.

All those are his; he has no need for it.

Wealth buys things; bring yourself, contrite.

Self didn’t come by the power of money.

It was created by the power of God.

Bring all you have, the soul, before the altar.

In the inner light, you cannot falter.

In the presence of the all-knowing father

You need only bring the Son, the soul.

God receives his son with no reservations.

Where the son is instructed in righteousness.

And having received, freely gives of itself.

 ~~Mary Handy Moore

The Warning Came in the Morning

 

The message came

Early in the morning.

It came in the

Form of a warning.

 

One who is prone

To blow things off

Would have missed the

Urgency of the cough.

 

The message came

Early in the morning.

It came in the

Form of a warning.

 

 

EARLY MORNING PRAYER

“Do you pray always, Mary?”

Yes, Lord, always, working

Hard lest I faint. If I faint, what

Will the end of my children be?

What will the end be of the testimony

My Ancestors left behind for me

To live out, to prove true, to elongate

And to propagate among the airy minds

Of those I love, who love me, and those

Who don’t even know me, and let it sink

Down to the fleshy hearts. Offering love, one

To another. Praying for peace in every soul,

Like links in a chain, from one soul to the

Next, being that all souls are connected

To Your heart unless they fall away; forgive

Them, O, Father, I pray. You rejected us,

Father, so that you could ensoul, graph,

Include those without, within the Plan you

Had from the beginning. Had you left us in

Mire of our own creation, we would not be,

We would be no more a people in a godless

World, carrying knowledge of life and death

Within us and around us, hovering above our

Head, which some can’t see, no being aware,

Awake. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel very fair

That You require us to pray for those

Who don’t pray, who won’t pray for us,

Who pray against us, who forsook and

Forsake us in this system. You gave us

The power to be ourselves and in that, heal

One another if we will. We also abuse power

To our utter hurt. But those are who our

Ancestors prayed for. Today, we must pray

For our ancestors, for us, and them. When

We have defeated every enemy within,

Awareness of that will break every yoke,

All chains, and rectify past, present, and

Future drug-induced failures that cripple

Your people, as our ancestors fought

Against before us.

Yes, Lord, I’m praying, for then, now, and

forever. And when all of this is done, we will

know as we are also known. Thank You, and

Thank You again and amen.

~~ Mary Handy Moore

Without Light, Empty Shells Won’t Repent

HIM

He didn’t know them,

Therefore, he didn’t care

That he killed anonymous people.

He had no remorse, not being capable of it.

He loves the thrill of killing, being a killer.

He loves playing Russian Roulette,

Being the thrill-seeker that he is.

Thus, killing innocents does not upset him.

THEY

They have no character,

Not even a modicum of decency;

So how can they be moral?

Morality evolves in humans,

Else they fail to become that—

Beings unworthy of the name.

For what is a human shell

When the lumen, spurned, rejected,

Withholds the soul’s own light?

The human soul must have a spark

In the human body. Lumen, light.

As the heart, the mind, the emotive

Power evolves within the body,

These refine us when we’re led aright.

The seed, star, evolves every soul.

Yet a fire, light, un-nourished, flickers out.

And the lumen never becomes a flame or a sun.

~ Mary Handy Moore 

 Everything

Everything has a course to run.

Every road has a crossroads.

Every inbreath has an exhalation till

Every breath has a cessation.

Every evening has the following morning.

Every sunrise has a sunset.

Every created thing will sleep when

the Kingdom of Time comes to fold

all up in the Mother's Bosom.

To wait ... for another Eternity.

~ Mary Handy Moore

 

Spiritual Power

Spiritual power that

Humbleness keeps asunder

As that power can ride

Astride the thunder.

It's able to clasp a lightning

Bolt of purest blue,

Whose strike returns

The Kingliest Hue

Of red like that from holiest

Veins was bled.

Spiritual power that humbleness

Keeps asunder.

The unknowing ones misconstrue

That power some wield, calling it

Magic - mostly bad.

The spiritual ones know the Difference. 

The charlatans don't.

No power is greater than

The one who gave it.

 

~ Mary Handy Moore

RYAN COOGLER'S "SINNERS"

 

I went to the movies today (Tuesday, 6-10-2025) to see Sinners for the sixth time. It's never happened before in my life. I've heard the soundtrack seven or eight times. It now ties with the Cowboy Carter soundtrack. Sinners is a wonderful and sad movie. I think everyone can identify with at least something in this movie, if they're honest.

Today, I found some posts trending on TikTok where mostly young people (maybe not though) are taking the meaning of this movie in the wrong direction. I really believe that. Here's why:

In frantic attempts to find a sin in every character's closet, they zero in on Annie - and the wrong sin, if there is one. Since they can't find a feasible one to attach to her bosom, they conjure up one: Annie is a witch who sacrifices (kills) her baby girl with Smoke in order to protect Smoke and Stack. Then, they conjure up another dark-hearted thing for Annie to do: She sacrifices (eventually kills) Stack when she reactivates Smoke's neck charm before they leave her house. (That must be when she does it.) So, Mary, whose privileged intrusion brought death to the Black folks, can turn Stack - and she does.

What happens to Stack's protection? Like Annie tells Smoke when he asks her why Hoodoo didn't or couldn't save their baby, " I don't know." Who knows? Stack may have tossed his charm if he had a separate one in the glove compartment of their car, but it is not on his person in the juke joint. I really think Annie makes one bag to "keep you and your crazy-ass brother safe." It must be Karma. It's not for Stack to be protected this time because, logically, without Stack, there can be no Smoke. Stack is "the best part of me," which makes Smoke a shell without him, being identical twins.

For the thinking ones, if Annie does use that spiritual art for evil when it serves her purpose, she knew how to save their baby, which would have required a sacrifice of some sort because the baby couldn't be saved righteously being too far gone, and the baby wouldn't have died. That's witchcraft. Also, she would've told Smoke, "Yes, I can bring him (Stack) back to life" (that's Necromancy). No to all of that darkness. Annie is a spiritual and physical healer with the help of the ancestors. She is a worker in the Light.

Unfettered, Unconfused, Unconsumed

  

                                                                         Source: April White

I have no fear of entering any thought-out venture

However, I avoid the angst of two-fold accusations 

And take great caution about it to dispel great censure

By misunderstanding and other outside critics’ agitations

If I end up in a state of happiness, hence, thankfulness

My end, ever evolving, will be better than my beginning

May you prosper as your soul prospers, is great ampleness

Whereas ampleness’s colossal opposite will be non-winning

Those who are sane understand the two realms of bountiful

The objective, material well-being by accumulated measure

That motivates striving for our portion from meager to plentiful  

Meant for growth. Then there's the subjective, hidden treasure

I rely on the hidden treasure where is stored my wisdom

That right-decision-maker that eliminates room for schisms

The reservoir of sanctified, unalloyed, and faithful rhythms

Movements of a soul undisturbed by the fickleness of isms.

~~Mary Handy Moore

 LET’S SHARE TOGETHER

Share with me your story

Please be willing to hear mine

Share with me your wisdom

I’ll share ways and means I found mine

Reveal your life’s losses and finds

I’ll share my own apportioned line*

Does your attitude rightly align 

While I examine my own in kind?

The right attitude helps us unwind

The static, uncomfortable inclines

That we must control for the decline

Of separateness and one-island confines.

~~ Mary Handy Moore

*Measures of Destiny. No more, no less. A line is infinite in space. Points (in time and space) are positions on a line. Let a point in this case be a Star. We are that.

Tell Me, Tell Me, Tell Me

Tell me you love me

And I’ll say it right back.

Tell me you trust me

And I’ll thank you for that.

Tell me that you see me.

I promise to see you right back.

You tell me you find worth in me.

Your insight makes me feel like that.

Your wisdom about life and times includes me.

Tell me, how can I not revel in that?

Your understanding wisdom makes me see

What you see. I’ll make that my top hat.

~~ Mary Handy Moore

 Cover My Head 

~~~”He will cover you with his feathers, and 

under his wings you will trust; His truth will 

be your shield and buckler.” Psalm 91:4 

This was a dream–until it wasn’t-after 

preparation for years later. 

Whenever I peek out from under my cover, 

When I find an avalanche of snow all over, 

I get in a hurry and go back – back to my bed, 

And pull the many covers over me and my head. 

I will hide from the storm - come, daylight. 

I could get covered by the snow at midnight. 

I'll stay under my cover where everything is warm. 

This is not my fight; this is not my snowstorm. 

I’m going to stay undercover where all is warm. 

I’m not going to let the snowstorm do me harm. 

~Mary Handy Williams

 Stones of Darkness

I don’t have very much,

But I have all there is to have.

I don’t know many things,

But I found knowledge in

The uttermost of all

I need knowledge of.

I can’t see much

But I’m a seer,

I see all I need to see

In the raincloud of

Seeable things.

I have no knowledge

But I know, just as

I am also known.

I can hear all things:

Things in heaven

And things in hell.

I can feel all things,

My nerve trunk is

Connected to the Root

To which are joined

All the other roots.

So, daily I’m fearless

While I’m filled with fear.

I’m delightfully hopeful,

While swimming in a

Sea of hopelessness.

I command myself to be brave,

In my daily walk towards

The certainty of death.

I realized I’m Light

Encased in a

Stone of darkness. Live.

~Mary Handy Moore

11-22-24

Allusions and metaphors can be heard and seen throughout this poem; a lyrical one is “I Don’t Know Much,” recorded and released by Aaron Neville and Linda Ronstadt (1989). There are words found in 1 Corinthians 13:12. The first 22 Stanzas are personal subjective and objective experiences in "the raincloud of knowable things," a phrase used in Theosophy and Transpersonal Psychology. The last 11 Stanzas are ancient and recent experiences and meditation. Unthinkingly, this poem ends up being 11-22 or 33 verses. I never intended that, but it’s as it should be. The picture is not as first seen; I have not been able to prompt a generative AI response to fit the colors and other things exactly as I saw them. For example, I settled for green grass in the end. This vision or dream made me sad for many months. 

GENDER FLUIDITY WAS NEVER A PHRASE

 I reckoned for most of my life if it were me ... I have family and friends who are what I reckoned could've been me, and I love them more as my life progresses because I must keep seeing them as who and what they are. They help me be a better person because I grow towards them, not away from them, which makes them feel free to grow towards me. Grace is our enabler.

https://www.reckon.news/lgbtq/2024/07/gender-fluidity-was-never-a-phase-these-13-ancient-cultures-prove-it.html

Glee's songbird Mercedes (Amber Riley) would make Whitney Proud - Listen

‘Glee’ Tribute to Whitney Houston Is Cool But Creepy (LISTEN) | The Stir

You ask my thoughts about it?  If I had tears left after God virtually "Dried up the Sea In Me" about past grief, this young woman would make me cry tanks of tears.  I have never seen "Glee," but I heard a Whitney Houston clone (Mercades) singing "I Will Always Love You".  I will always love Whitney Houston, among others.  But right now, this is about Whitney, her troubled daughter, and her grieving family.  Rest in Peace (5/2012).

 The Celestial Watching Me

I looked down at a teardrop on my hand,

Then I look up to see a Celestial One

Watching me. As I watched him watching me,

I sighed. He didn’t trouble me. I didn’t try to

Hide the teardrops as they bathed my face;

I didn’t try to cover them up; I didn’t try to erase

The grief; I didn’t try to deny the pain;

I reached out to touch the rejection I felt.

Remaining calm in the stillness,

He consoled me with the hardship dealt me.

Watching him watching me, he reached out.

He touched my eyes. He touched my grief.

Suddenly, before me, my life as a bird in

The air flying freely in its being, in its element,

In space. Across space, free, singing

Perfectly in its space. I could see it then -

He showed me I’m that bird.

I’m running in space with another Traveler.

Then, I met my friends who lived in town …

~Mary H Moore© (1998-1999)

 Chained

I was chained in the Garden

And led out by the Master

On all fours as was Nebuchadnezzar

In his 7-10-year Wisdom experience.

The ball and chain around my neck,

Were in the gentle hands of the Master.

He led me out of that Garden to live

The Wisdom Path, the Way of Wisdom.

Mary Moore©

(9-16-2002)

This vision was sometime in 1996-1997; which concluded that this ties in well with Paul’s statement of being an ambassador in Chains. For example, Nebuchadnezzar was also that (esoterically) as Christ was preparing him while feeding him (eating grass or learning wisdom) in the desert.

BB King - the Blues Doctor

 https://www.instagram.com/reel/C4BNDUcMXnp/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet&igsh=ZDNlZDc0MzIxNw==

This remarkable man and his songs were my breakthroughs over the years, when the weight of the world of ungrateful people plagued my shoulders (my life). This song penetrated deeply enough into my heart that I realized the weight belonged to others - the ungrateful; it was not mine to carry. Buckets of tears are mired in this song.

The storm and I

                                                        I stood in the Storm 

I stood in the storm as it hurried by,

Wondering why, O why it passed me by.

I stood in place, but I ran after it.

Catching up with it, I asked it why,

Why, O why did it pass me by?

"I've devastated you again and again.

“But I'll visit you again before your end,”

As it whirled past me around the bend.

   

I hoped the onlookers would comprehend. 

I stood on my ground and began to pray

For those who didn’t know, a storm was on its way.

I prayed for those who slept during the day.

Many didn’t know a storm was coming their way.

I stood in my place, in shoes full of Grace.

I stood there praying for the tears on their face.

With sheer bewilderment that often can efface

 

And disturbs those unprepared for a strenuous race.

It is impossible to outrun a tumultuous storm,

Even if you can see the very beginning of its form.

If it's for you to suffer it, then suffer it, you must.

Some have a dread: "Something bad is going to happen.”

For the wise, premonitions are considered a buffer.

The wise don't get caught in unprofitable storms

Without the full armor that it takes to victoriously suffer

 

Whatever it takes to move from one place to another,

To come out into a new sun that heals, not harms.

I stood in the storm as it hurried by,

Wondering why, O why it passed me by.

I stood in place, but I ran after it.

Catching up with it, I asked it why,

Why, O why did it pass me by.

~Mary Moore, 2014