Toward the Bliss


And when I opened my eyes at last

when the fear had subsided

and my throat let me breathe


I saw your face and heard Angels Sing

God told me that I was God

and he was just a voice in my wilderness


He took my hand

and we walked into the Sun

and everything I knew just fell away


Toward the Bliss


◄ Ride On

Babel-buzz ►


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Wolfgar Miere

Sat 4th May 2019 19:22

Thankyou Rachel and Jonathan,

I am always grateful to those who take time to read, comment and like. From two writers whose work I enjoy and am often inspired by it is especially pleasing.

Rachel, I am familiar with the story behind "Yellow Ledbetter" so it does carry meaning for me. I would also add that sometimes silence in the presence of others who understand is more meaningful than anything else ever could be.

Jonathan I love that piece of music and it seemed perfect for my mood when I wrote this. It can calm me in the shortest possible time.

Thanks again to you both,


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Jonathan Humble

Sat 4th May 2019 13:25

The poetry goes so well with the music. Either could have been written for the other. Wonderful stuff David.

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Sat 4th May 2019 11:44

Hi David,

I'm enjoying a pretty relaxed afternoon with some music and lots of daydreaming.

I was hearing this song and thought about you and this piece that you wrote--I just had to share it with you...

I won't go deeper, here, than to say that often, it seems the case that we are able to appreciate what happens by what hasn't happened.

..lots of Love to you,


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Wolfgar Miere

Fri 3rd May 2019 06:21

Thanks Stu and Ray,

I spent sometime thinking about this last night, mostly because I had nothing better to do and sleep wasn't coming.

I was thinking about bliss and how it is fleeting and varied.

I am not at all sure if what I describe is bliss or something else (that's why I called this "Toward the Bliss" because it is at least moving in that direction) if it's something else I'm not sure I have a name for it.

I have experienced what seemed like bliss watching a Sunrise and watching a bird of prey hunt only meters from me...that felt like bliss.

Bliss is definitely not exclusive.

I think it requires a counter balance which enables us to identify it.

Thinking more intently about what I said earlier regarding gratitude for life, it feels strange experiencing gratitude without necessarily knowing who or what to bestow that gratitude on, maybe in my case it is mother nature or just luck.

I know deep down that when I have witnessed colleagues die and been in close proximity to the aftermath of that, a little voice inside me has said 'Rather you than me'. Now that is not a very nice thought to have and certainly not to recall, especially when later comes guilt.

Am I grateful they are dead rather than me? because it could so easily have been the case. In those immediate moments I felt the bliss of being alive, on reflecting upon that thought it induces guilt.

Sometimes when I see the faces of people I love and recall those moments of elation, that seems is most often for a mere moment in time and then it passes.

I have no idea really, just occasionally too much time to contemplate it.

Forgive my Writing out Loud.


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Thu 2nd May 2019 22:01

I know we are in weighty territory David, but my reaction to this was that there is a simplicity to it which belies the bigger questions, a sort of universal credit card to be inserted when help is needed. The comparison with religion is like a collision. Bliss is often cited as a state of mind to be achieved as the experience of the Godhead (so called). I don't think it can be dismissed.


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Stu Buck

Thu 2nd May 2019 18:46

wonderful poem

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Wolfgar Miere

Thu 2nd May 2019 18:44

Thanks for comments and likes on this folks.

I did put a comment up previously but deleted it, unfortunately it didn't quite say what I wanted it to. (I'm not sure if this does or that I can ever articulate the feelings I am attempting to capture here)

All I can say is there have been times in my life when I thought I might die, in those moments/times (some prolonged and far from home and family) I did not promise my soul to a god I could never believe in, I did not make promises to myself I couldn't keep in the hope of survival.

I simply promised myself that I would do anything to live and get back home, I did and I did.

I am consequently not indebted to anyone or anything for my life.

People say there are no atheists in the trenches (mostly desk jockeys who have never been in one) I say bollox to that because I was/am one...there was no god present on the days I walked away.


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Wed 1st May 2019 18:54

Very nice poem, even more so in light of your comment below

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Wed 1st May 2019 16:37

How I appreciate the audio--my inner tempo was much too quick to pick up on the tone ;

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Wolfgar Miere

Wed 1st May 2019 15:05

Bearing in mind that I am a well travelled atheist this poem is not born from religious servitude. For me it comes from moments of teetering on the edge of life and being somehow delivered from the precipice.

It is about in those moments seeing the faces of the people and places I love and those I truly care about, and knowing that I will see them is about being bloody grateful for my tiny little place in the universe.

My most vivid experience of bliss has been in realising the value of living, for that I had to get right up to the edge.

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