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#3406 - Thursday, January 8, 2009 - Editor: Jerry Katz

The Nonduality Highlights - 




mace mealer's poetry has appeared in the Highlights over 50 times, the earliest appearance in issue #480. Now mace has written a hard cover book featuring nearly 700 of his poems. The poems read smoothly, have different flavors and tones, and get different themes across: compassion, silence, children, eternality, release, emptiness, nothing, as-is-ness, enlightnement. The volume is reminder after reminder, pointer after pointer of what is essential and important in life, and mainly it's about being human and watching ourselves as we step through the world. You'll feel that mace mealer knows you slightly better than you know yourself, and that he wanted the difference to be slight.


The book is entitled Alethea at Aphelion, A Book By God and Mace, by William Mace Mealer.


It may be ordered at


Here are a few of the poems:


New Year


Winter sky is hard and high

framed by ice glistening bough

wherein the wind of velvet sky

does not the Heart's red flame allow.

But in the houses down below

beneath the shadows of the snow,

in blankets that are big and small,

sleep the children of us all.

There the Heart burns bright and clear,

to show the way for this New Year.


Poet's Coin


Intent is rarely free of impurities.

But like the gold in our teeth,

too pure is too soft

to let us chew our food.

With just a little hypocrisy,

let us speak

of wind and rain and love.




In the maelstrom of existence

Nothing is repeated,


Every grain of sand

that falls

through the hourglass

is infinitely different

than the one before.

Even the smallest action

is ultimately

never repeated.

It is easy to mistake

the same for the similar.

Be assured, the next

thought you have,

emotion you feel,

action you take,

will be miraculously





Once there was an old monk

who practiced his meditation

by getting up early in the morning

before anyone else was up and

seating himself in the middle of a

small doorway in the monastery

where many had to pass on their

way to their appointed duties.

This practice greatly impeded

the movement of his fellow monks

as they found it necessary to leap

over him to be on their way.

The result being that he was often

kicked in the process, not always

accidentally, and therefore

he was frequently covered in bruises.

When the frustration of the other

monks rose to a fevered pitch they

voiced their complaints to the Revered

Teacher of the monastery and requested

that he intervene.

Calling the old monk before him

the Teacher asked him why he found

it necessary to practice his meditation

in this way. He replied,

"I find that I dislike others and I

am easily distracted"

At this the Teacher smiled and

asked the old mink to resume

his practice.


So Darn Cute


My ego is like a little boy,

I have to love him,

he's so darn cute.

He likes to think he's

SO important.

He loves toys

and his sweets,

and what an imagination!

One day a Cowboy,

the next an Indian,

or an ancient learned Sage.

I'm never cruel to him

because he reminds me

what it is to be human,

but I never give him

the keys to the car.


A Visit


Lonelineness stopped by

for a visit last night.

He must have heard me

polishing memories

of holding my kids.

It's been a while

since he and I were

constant companions.

I understand him

better now.

So I made some

tea and we talked

a while.

He tells me

business is good.


Earl and Sam


I once knew a man named Earl,

all in all he was a pretty ordinary guy.

With one notable exception,

he was liked by everyone,

and I mean everyone!

I never heard anyone say

a bad thing about Earl, ever!

It took me a while but I think

I figured out why.

He never thought ill of others.

He just didn't do it, and everyone

just somehow knew it.

I also knew a guy named Sam

whose nature was kind of bitter.

Sam had something nasty to say

about just about everyone,

except Earl, who to this day

I believe was his only

True Friend.




Every artist

has a flaw

written on their forehead,

visible to everyone,

but themselves,


in every aspect of work.


the expression

of perfection

in the work

of any artist,

is dependent on

the artist

becoming intimately aware

of this flaw,

and not attempting

to remove it.


The Secret


The miraculous secret

of the most profound truth

is in its simplicity,

to know it,

begin by giving freely

of that which you cherish most.


To Know Another


Say "non duality" to no ear

and only the silence smiles back

at your naivety.

Say it to one other,

and you have created

its counterpart.

Say it to thousands

and you have given birth

to a grand hypocrisy.

This one finds it easy

to recognize grand hypocrisies

having postulated so very many.




I'm going to print more in the next issue. Over 700 poems in the book. Alethea at Aphelion, A Book By God and Mace, by William Mace Mealer.


It may be ordered at

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