Monday, September 21, 2020

Wondrousness of love

 



Love kisses herself through your lips 
she says ‘I love you’ and it is the echo of your aloneness.... 

we are the brain's preferences... isn't that wonderful?
I go to an island inlet with my husband, shell hunting.... and there are only shells... waves crashing and the roar and suck as they drag the sea worn shells in and out.... vast sea and wind and rocky cliffs and it is all beautiful... I cannot imagine picking one shell out... and yet
after a few steps... I find a particularly beautiful piece and watch my hand reach down.... and revel in the softness of hardness
of sea and wind and my hands and these ancient shells... the softness and hardness of life... inseparably this emptiness and fullness of love... this timeless dance of wonder... the way light and shadow caress our lips singing this enchantment of a three dimensional love song... 

and we are this love light... dancing.... twisting twirling into and through each other's love songs...each other's love light... no words no tears no songs are owned... all and everything magically appearing just like this...

this is an edgeless symphony a chorus of one with many apparent voices blending rejoicing in their own splendiferous sounds... 
this music of life itself basking in its own loveliness...

we seem to appear and meet in this love song... only with imaginary separation are there different notes.. and intervals in between them... this music of love requires imaginary separation... this dream of you and me is an imaginary canyon that has no sides.... but you can hear your echo dancing on the cliffs and in this imagining there are other dancers other singers and spaces between us... where stories emerge and fall into our edgeless hearts.... l am these stories these love songs sung by no one sung by everyone.... it is the song of our wondrous humanness shared that resonates and we are its overtones... 
tears and laughter and tears.... 

dipping into the waters of love we find ourselves drowning in love's magnificence...



edgeless heart
all encompassing love
those tears were never yours....

as you chase love she chases you
falling into your own reflection 
nothing is found
neither here nor there nor in between

you are a love song the universe sings
this rushing roaring river of oceans is your heart
breathing the tides
you are this dream this virtual reality this hologram of infinite rainbows dissolving into sky....

dreaming is empty 
awake is the dream
describing words with words seems to weave a circle of knowing
and a someone in the middle singing these words that write themselves
trying to find the center or the edge of knowing is the dream spinning itself...
there is no center
nor edge
nor dream

we ask is it real
what is real
but a word
immediately and intimately this is intuited
but cannot be known
the store front is from an old western movie set
there is nothing behind the facade
no things to buy
no purchase or handholds
no reference points
no pointless-ness

and what then, you may ask, when this is realized?
simply easeful enjoyment of this humanness we all share
this love that blossoms endlessly
without time or non time

petals falling
drifting along the sidewalk




empty bliss
blossoms blooming
multi-petaled  light falls softly through the morning
gently dawn teases colors into the garden
empty now
of golden finches
sunflowers wait....

I am memories of rainbows painted on windows when I was afraid of the cold dark winter
and the rhythm of spring sighing through the snow
terrified of nothing
of everything
lest the puzzle dissolve
lest the words disappear into the darkness

hanging on to any scrap of hope for love
when it was found the terror abated 
for awhile... 

but the emptiness was never filled
it can never be
I am the emptiness I feared
all is empty
all is full
there is no one to be this or that
all is super complete and wondrous
no matter what it looks like... 
or feels like
there is no trying to capture feeling
no one or thing separate from it
feeling is the story
the story is the story

we are the story 
this love story
that swings and dances through these words
sharing our stories we see that we are each other
no one exists alone
no one exists...

we are this love light dancing
I can feel your radiance bathe my heart
and in the sparkling we seem to emerge
just 
for a brief moment
we are the eyes of the world
catching a glimpse of our own love and beauty
ricochet of love
kaleidoscope of wonder
love dissolves into itself
speechless she sings
I love you
we are beauty weeping at its own magnificence
love weeping at its own beauty....



sieve of starlight drinks the rain
liquidity of love swallows you
empties her echo into your shadow as you slide across the garden 
falling
into
flowers

erasing all
embracing all
love slides through me
the touch of your heart
in mine




ocean falls into sky
sky into ocean
horizon tips over and you fall through your own reflection

falling through rainbows
colors dissolve
falling through sky
sky falls through you
falling through the falling
no one is left to fall
there was never any place to land
no air to breathe
no one to love

suspended as infinite nothingness
without time or timelessness
life seems to continue
no longer believing in the dream is the dream
there is no emptiness
there is no fullness
nor anything in between

rising up through oceans of sky
bursting into the roar of echoes dreaming
wind and light soar through you
and you are wind and light soaring
there is no need to look for light or shadows
bathed in liquid moon



finding nothing here, nor there, nor anyone looking... 
not finding a here nor there nor in between, I cannot say that it boils down to I am, we are, or this is.... 

yet, life, for us, is description, is words.... is this love song that sings itself...

and the mountain dawn is reflected in the hubcaps, backwards in the mirror through the window, while canyon winds rush through the garden rivers of oceans roar through my chest...
pour through this mouth these teeth these lips this tongue that has tasted life's indelible sweetness that lingers in my breath, these words that have no utterer, seem to spill into the river of love which overflowed its banks long long ago...




wind breathes itself
sky bathes in its own blueness...
tears fall through their own wetness
love letters written in the dark pleading for light are never answered
no hand writes the story
no one waits for an answer
there are no answers
or questions

this tapestry of flowing
cannot be reduced to warp and weft of sound and light
the threads have no beginning nor end
they weave themselves as they disappear... 

impenetrable intimacy of life swallows time
infinite emptiness without emptiness is an idea
thought cannot go there
there is no where to go
all thought dissolves into letters
strewn like stars across the vastness
falling
burning in their own fire

light dissolves into its own brilliance
space erases its own insubstantiality
love seems to flow into and through itself
but there is no flowing
no love...

galaxies exploding into infinite wonder
love feels like that



trying to separate the stars from sky leaves star mirrors gliding down your cheeks...
neither separate nor joined life is all of a peace...
edgeless seamless wonder falls through its own amazement
leaving echos of shimmering that ignite your heart
this searing brilliance consumes you
and all paths toward this light

no one strolls in this starlit dream
yet we seem to meet in this love light
and bathe in the shadow of moon
breathing in each other's echoes
the taste of love remains

we are memories
shooting stars
burning




And you may look and say, “Hmm, I can find no thing which thinks, no thing which feels, I can find nothing inside that is the doer of action. And yet that will not erase the feeling that there is something solid, something unchanging, something permanent, the feeling of an inside and an outside. The feeling that you are a thing surrounded by infinite other things. Perhaps this is because the very looking perpetuates the belief and the feeling of someone who looks.



and what of love?
surely that must be real....
what of yellow butterflies
and golden sunsets
what is golden...
what is the meaning of beauty
what is the meaning of meaning

tales of sorrow and joy are empty
as well as the story teller
love is this dream of wonder slipping through a dream of space and time
time is the dream of butterflies soaring through the mind stream 
delicate petaled wings of thought
space a feathered wind that slips through its own breath
this dream that we are has no edges or compartments
I seem to be here
and you there
without the story of space and time we are not
how would we twirl across this mirage if we could not touch?
how can we touch if our lines are imaginary?
if our lines are made up
what does that say about us?

the dream unravels and the tattered threads cannot be caught
we are the infinite colors of this tapestry
the words in this fairy tale of wonder

sweet sublime unknowing never slept
it cannot awaken
there is no sleeper
nor dreamer
eternity is empty
emptiness is empty

but love, love is the dream that seems to pull us together
in this pirouette of thought
and in loving you
I recognize this love light that I am
that you are
that this is
is love the dream?
yes
is it real?
what is real but a thought
what is thought but a thought...




long windy night
low moan of moon 
sky wanders through the lace of trees
you hold your breath...
or does breath hold you and seem to halt this dream called time you never could find

this immeasurable momentary that has no beginning nor end
nor middle
seems to explode and implode and erase all boundaries...
there never was an outside to all this was there?
never was a before or next... 

yet breath seems to resume and the timeline begins
the wheel keeps turning
and you long to be suspended as beauty again... 
this sensuous lostness...
were you ever lost or found?
can you find that person who wandered late last night
or was she just a dream...
where did the darkness go?
was there ever a night blossoming into this wondrous dawn
stretching her arms across the horizon her chest rips wide open
...heart exposed
you drown in her light
she bathes in her infinite reflections
liquid sun dancing on the mirroring sea

gull skims the waters and you can feel her wings
every feather elegantly tuned to the sea and sky and wind
your fingertips quiver
as you soar through the river of reflections
that have no origin
or destination

when are you not this dream of infinite echoes
the wind feeling its own softness
through your skin
the earth touching its own hardness
through your feet
sky swooning through its own light
through your eyes
love kissing herself
through your lips
life touching tasting feeling its own aliveness 
through you
an imaginary prism
a window between an imaginary inside and outside
a skin of thought
painting a world of light and color and beauty and love

time seems to hold still or move
and there is no one separate from this apparent ballet of life
dancing you
dancing me
dancing this pirouette of love

whirl wind of thought seems to spin
to weave this enchantment of today and tomorrow
but there is no tomorrow
you know that



lustrous night
awash in the dream of light
moon is suspended in spidery threads
filaments of thought spin the dream

powdery wings of the night moth brush your face 
the hovering
swallows the hush
that never entered or left the dream of the summering moon






we are not love
there is no one to be love
and no love to be...

we are sourceless echoes in a canyon of reflections... 

words flow and paint this river of love that has overflowed its banks... all is consumed in this flood
all measurement all distinction all ideas of this and that and you and me and love and beauty, all lines that defined perfection and imperfection are erased... all lines between an imaginary past and future and this thing called now dissolve... 
the boundaries between joy and sorrow melt in the liquidity of love

hope and fear simply memories of a desert dream where you wandered as thirst itself, looking for the source of these waters you were but could never drink...

love swallows the ocean as she swallows herself

we are mental fabrications... less substantial than thought... we are imaginary selves... personas... a flow of words... memory preferences belief... that no one has... 

this shift does not happen to the imaginary character, it is a profound shift that occurs in the brain...

love is also made up... as are all things... this worded world this virtual reality the dream of separation is the only place where we exist, as concepts in a conceptual world... 
this is the only place where love and beauty live...




this searing delicate intimacy of life seeing touching tasting itself through you.... 
you are love's mirror, utterly transparent, 
you do not exist without imaginary separation
you cannot see yourself, as reflections are simply reflections... 
there is no one looking...
no one to see
what is in between light?




so many non dual speakers go on and on about how there is no self
who cares?
there is no love either...
nor mountains or trees or vast infinite sky...
ya cant even say 'this is it'
as there is no this nor that nor both nor neither...
and there are no its
no things or non things...

so what about this thing called enlightenment
remember there are no things
no selves
and therefore no one to become enlightened... 

no separate moments, no time or eternity, no never... 
so no future when this imaginary persona will get or not get enlightened...  

so many hear that there are people who seem to be 'non selves'
wow that sounds good!
to not be this puny little fellow with these troublesome thoughts and emotions... 
maybe I can become a non self!
or even, as some teachers suggest...
an enlightened self!

how can a non self walk along the trails of a non existent mountain?
or hold the hand of a loved one as they die
...weep as if their heart will break
and recognize this broken hearted beauty in everyone they see....

how can a non self see the wonder of rainbows
as they dissolve into sky
how could a non self see this unicity
how could a non self love?

all that seems to be going on is a mentally fabricated dream
just like the dream you had last night
where did all those characters go
where did last night go... 
where is today
or tomorrow
no one knows what is going on
no one knows more about this than you do
some seem to rest in a most delicious unknowing 
some not... 

but there is no right or wrong way to feel or live or love or die
and we all do
live and love and lose love and die
and well
love is just the best part of the dream
it soothes the great aloneness we all share
and I love you
and I love you for that





there is no choice and no one choosing how life feels... separation felt or not... cause and effect or not... purpose or not... meaning or non meaning... 
and really no separate feelings from which to choose...
all is a mentally fabricated thought dream simply self arising and simultaneously self erasing....
there is no one to be liberated from the self and no self to be liberated from... 

we are the dream the thought stream made of shared learned words but the stories that are written with these words is unique
we can never know what life feels or looks like for another... 
how colors appear to another... the very idea that there is another is an idea... 

we are this great aloneness... there is no escape from the dream of separation that we are
in sharing these stories we catch a glimpse of our own wondrous humanness
we seem to be mirrors of each other and seem to arise in the sharing... in the love...
I can never know what love feels like for you
and this is the great mystery and wondrousness of love...

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

To love is enough

 









to be a human being 
To love
That’s enough 


softly softly love embraces itself through your naked arms and you dissolve into yourself
there is no one left in the mirror to look for her echo
liquidity of light pours through its own reflection and there is no source to this river of wind and light and love which lingers on the tongue in the heart in the empty halls of memory

life has overflowed its imaginary sides and although it seems to flow all by itself it is really not moving nor still
yet an unutterable vacancy an unfathomable vastness a hum of stillness can be felt...
a song of love has supersaturated the dream
there are tears and smiles and hugs
there is caring
there is love
but there is no hope or fear or need of a never arising next

we are the aftertaste of wind
a song of joy and sorrow
of love and love lost
birth and death the beginning and end of an imaginary timeline
that no one walks
some seem to fall off
and plummet into uncharted seas
and dissolve into their own love light
but they exist only in this love light
that no one owns
we are reflections of reflections 
there is no beginning and end to this echo
this sea shanty
this intoxication
this love



moon sailed through her own echo as night drank itself
intoxicated with her own absence and the fullness of starlight

where are the stars that bathe the garden
weaving pattens of stardust into your feet...
where is the light in your night time dream?
where is the love you long for?

daylight pauses on the fence
mourning dove on the feeder
fullness of feathers and the roundness of vowels
spill through this song
painted with memory 
and the low howl of distant winds that soar across the canyon
erasing the shadows of time and space
and the reflection of a girl
dancing with her reflection
longing for a love to heal her brokenness
and found that love was the dream of longing
that she was


silent breath of my lover
caresses this softness
love has burned all notions of day and night
and love
she left her kiss upon my lips
and her song in my heart
no longer mine
this song
these tears
these smiles
this love


no one exists alone 
Yet we are utterly alone 




we are all ultimately alone... in this dance of one of two of many of none.... the song sings itself 
the story tells itself 
this dance of life dances itself, no rehearsal no ticket required... no dance floor... no end nor beginning no time or non time at all.... no movement nor non movement.... yet I can feel my heart beating... the echo of all hearts all songs all love stories...  the dance of this and that, the heart beat of existence .... 


I do not see that there is a person or self underneath thought belief feeling or action
No separate things called thought belief feeling or actions 
Yet this passion play that sings us dances us twirls us into this ballet of sunset streaming is what we are... 
I am this pirouette of thought....  

I see you an as unutterably beautiful ChoiceLess hologram drifting through a mirage of time and space 
I seem to fall deeply in love with everyone I meet 
Caring deeply 
Yet without hope or fear or need of a next or their love 



As long as I am 
There is caring 
Deeply 
There is loving 
Deeply 
As I am this caring 
This loving 
I might say there is no one to care and no love 
Here in rainbows 
Knowing you and me and love is made up
Is not the end of loving 
Of caring deeply for each other 
It’s the beginning 
I never knew I could love so deeply 
As there is no hope or fear or need of a next or love returned


I am your echo and you are mine... I am your reflection and you are mine... we are a ballet of love in this imaginary space in between galaxies... light skimming across a river without sides ....shimmering dancing in its own light.. love's light has no center or edge... it is the absence of measurement of lines ...of all ideas of love

love pours through this heart that is not mine... this love that is not mine... these tears that are not mine or yours but the tears of everyone ...of no one .... rivers of ancient starlight pour through our eyes... and this is what we call love... 
'I love you' how easily the words slip from our lips... like a kiss... like a song like a rainbow... 
but I had to learn to hide it.... 
falling in love with everyone I see

and when two imaginary dancers of wind meet... hearts collide and all is erased in this explosion of love....
....when they disappear into each other they are not... yet sharing songs ignites this love light...this burning obvious un namable feeling that we all know... love cannot be contained in a word yet it is a word... we are words... this vast measureless expanse has no edges nor center... it is not even vast... or measureless...
we this love empty of all ideas of love
simply echoes of love songs never sung nor heard
yet seem to emerge in the singing...

and I say 'I love you', because I do

the end of hope and fear and need of a never arising next is the blossoming of love




stepping off the cliff into your own love and finding you are soaring... have always been soaring... effortlessly in love as love through love... 

this love that has no meaning nor non meaning.... super saturating this dream of unparalleled wonder... it is not limited to a feeling or a person... it cannot be thought about yet it soothes all thought... it cannot be spoken of yet all words sing it... 
love is the song that erases all lines between this and that 
between you and me
yet imaginary lines are required to fall in love
so deeply
that we disappear 

songs are colors sliding through a river of rainbows... what is color what is a rainbow what are those tree tops dancing in the wind? what are words when word is a word? what is thought when thought is a thought? what thought could be true or false when true and false are thought? 
what is an atom? what is time? what is sunlight on the river
dancing?
what is beauty? what is this love? how can you see what you are?
there is nothing inside... cut your body and there is blood... 
you can never know what is going on as you are not separate from it...
you might as well try to move the planets out of their orbit... 
and you give up
laughing 
and weeping
realizing you never had any choice but to try to capture the sun
and you feel sorry for that little girl who went to sleep crying 
for no reason
for every reason
and one day woke up to a new dawn
to this brightness of not trying to hold love

and she sailed into the dream of love that she had never left



my first memory was the ocean calling my name
I could hear it always
but never actually find it
it was the wistful wind in the morning trees
first light in the garden
roses blooming
last leaves lingering....

tires on a distant road
love songs on the radio as the cars flew by
the caress of tears bathing my tenderness
and cascading down mountains of sorrow
and joy 
the all encompassing sigh
and the wrap around embrace of my own grief
of never finding any thing I could count on
and the forever quest for love

the silence of forgotten dreams
...the longing to remember
and the longing to forget
the emptiness I could not find
or fill
and the fullness of rainbows as they faded into sky
the promise of tomorrow
and the knowing that it would never come

and one day I found my name 
delicately written by the sea
as it percolated into the glistening sands
the sparkling was so beautiful
I forgot I never was



I cannot find a name for this feeling which is not separate from the rocks and trees and wind
dancing
nor separate from mountains and sky and vast endless oceans I cannot see
it is not separate from the caress of my eyes on this screen and the afternoon light swooning through the windy leaves, gracefully patterning the ground with un-graspable wondrousness
not separate from the birdsong coming from the low tangled roses empty now of blossoms
or my fingers sliding across the piano keys typing this song

it is a flood of emotion more intimate than any thing I thought I was, and more infinite than anything I thought I was not... raw and wild it broke my heart long ago and never left... I call it love and awe and joy and sorrow but it is really not a thing at all.... it has no edges nor center and comes not from me or you, yet it seems to be enlivened by your presence.... when I am with you this already bursting heart explodes 
dissolving into the sparkling

it feels like I am weeping always
whether there are tears or not
whether there is laughter or silence
I am this liquidity
dissolving into the sparkling....



the very earth and sky crack open
the compass of thought spins
this is the end of direction 
there is no place to go
or land
you cannot find your feet...

there are no reference points
no one left to be lost or found
ribbons of infinity slash your heart
as love escapes all ideas of freedom
you fall into a searing brilliance
as space and time dissolve

weeping softly you fall into your own tears
into your own naturalness
into your own beauty
into your own love
that was never yours
it is what you are

an imaginary center in a dream of edges
a galaxy of thought spiraling outward and inward
and it feels like light pirouetting with light
weightless
suspended in the top of a swing
without movement
as wind and light and love swoosh through you
and you are love swooshing

there is nothing to say
this cannot be shared
all you can do is try to describe this sensation of living between love and nothing at all

'I love you'
seems to work just fine


songs skim the liquidity of light
pouring echoes into your edgeless heart
neither empty nor full
they blossom just the same
petals are always falling
like these tears
seen and unseen
the music of vast oceans in a tiny shell
broken open by gulls longing to fill their hunger
how you longed to fill your hunger for love
never knowing you are this emptiness
this beautiful longing
that can never be filled

songs soar through us and paint our transparency with the fluidity of wind on a summer pond
trees arch down to kiss their reflection
symphony of birds
a feeling of stillness rippling....
whirling into your own reflection 
lightly the sun kisses you
as the sky swallows you

we are this love light that dances in us through us as us
there is no center nor center to the dream
no beginning or end to this love song that you are
you seem to be dancing through a mirage of time and space
yet you are the mirage dancing
sunlight and wind swept shadows flow through your reflection
no source to this light can be found
no water to slack your thirst
no one to drink these empty words

no one here to say I love you
no one there to reply
we are this call and answer love song
it sings us into the dream that we are
'just this'
love sings
'and not even that'

you find you are this dance of echoes
twirling into yourself
intoxicated with the knowing that you are this enchantment dancing
on the edge of love and nothing at all


Even meaningless looses its meaning




we are wingless hearts beating
soaring through love's embrace
her unassailable light saturates all and everything
there was no need to look under shadows
or try to hold the day
love is light and dark
and the beckoning sunset

infinite echoes bloom and recede
we are the tides of love bathing in our own liquidity
we are the song of vast vast seas falling through sky
rivers of oceans rushing through our chests

love seeks you out and finds you in the secret places
where you hid your fear of the emptiness that had been trying to swallow you since you were very small
running toward love
running away from your own embrace
running.... 
looking for self looking for other looking for ideas of perfection
looking for certitude 
for a place to rest

this deep grief of aloneness that defines you is consumed by love
she colors this bittersweet beauty of knowing that you are this pirouette of love and emptiness
adorned with light and shadow
spinning reflections on the canyon walls 
dancing with your own echo

no one leads and no one follows
there is no here nor there
time lost in the war between never and forever
everyone and everything was lost in the dance
this dance
this breath
this heartbeat
this song
there is no other





Monday, August 31, 2020

And we disappear

 


kaleidoscopic dream scape of sound and light spins into its own colors
pours through its own spinning
where time has no purchase
nor space can be found

golden finches glide through the garden and gather at the feeders
coffee maker burbles
water sounds of early morning traffic float . . .
no one is suspended as timelessness
this is atemporal thing-less seamless edgeless
...there is no this...

who is longing to be free of herself?
where is the skin you wish to cast off?
where are the hands that would tear it off?

who would dance in this moonlight ballet
if there are no two
there is no wonder
there is no love
there is no recognition of seamless beauty

how can you hide from your nakedness
deny these tears
deny the beauty of your humanness?
...the longing to escape
the longing to hide
the longing... is love
is you you are

there is no division between you and me
all lines are as thick as thought
yet they define us
when we meet
and try to touch
we swoon into each other's beauty
each other's tears
each other's love
this love that no one has
falls through itself
and we disappear



the brain creates stories using shared learned words... for example, a story like the brain creates stories using shared learned words... and all stories have separate things and events and time... and cause and effect... and a hero... and a beginning and an ending,  and there is no way for the brain using this very tool of imaginary separation to recognize that there is none...  yet this is the only tool, thought, that it has...

awakening is like all of life... it is utterly spontaneous... it is like a million suns exploding in your brain your heart... in the clouds the sky the sea the earth, burning melting all imaginary edges between this and that, between a you and your world, between now and then, here and there.... and yet it is a story like all others... the story of enlightenment being the story of no longer believing in the dream of separation, yet these dreams are not separate, they do not cease, I am simply another imaginary persona like you, nothing special, yet... all are special... all are wondrous... all is perfection as all ideas and parameters of what perfection is have vanished... 

I have not gone anywhere, there is no where and no one to go or return...  it is not an attainment, it is utterly empty... beyond understanding or belief... yet simultaneously it is wondrous beyond measure....



such utter ease ...such unutterable softness... weightless... all burdens of meaning of purpose of past and future dissolve...   simply this flow.... of no more parameters of what life or you or others or perfection should be... the knowing feeling that life does itself... no more trying to push or pull it... to try to move the planets into alignment.... life has no edges... no time.... no center.... all questions are gone... 

questioners don't want an answer... they want to keep questioning.... and as they are that, and what if the questions cease....
seekers are the fear of that deep deep fathomless emptiness that they feel inside... and it must be filled! 
or it will swallow them... 

looking for love or happiness or enlightenment or travel or food or sex or drugs... distraction ... television, more YouTube videos on awakening... more books... more music... more walking in nature... more trying to be with what is... more mediation... more exercise... more trying to cram your beautiful uniqueness into an idea of perfection... 

and no matter how hard I tried to fill that hunger it could never be filled.... that emptiness was me.... that utterly devastating aloneness was true.... and somehow there was a giving up... a letting go... but it was not of my doing.... and that was when the dark began to consume me.... to devour all ideas of what I was, what I should be like... what the world was... what it should be like... all ideas of light and dark... all measurement, division, time... all lines all distinction... all hope and fear and need of a never arising next... all this and that and here and there and you and me and we.... love and sorrow and joy and deep deep grief... 

emptiness pours through you and erases you and erases itself...

and you re-emerge on the other side of the darkness
on the other side of love
and you are eyes of love
all you see is painted with these eyes that no one has
all is embraced in luminous light
an unparalleled brillance
this vibrant aliveness
this love
singing itself
dancing itself
falling in love with itself
like this
like this 
like this




after the night
it never was
nor was the moon
separate from her shadow

oceans of tears
rivers of song
rivulets of wetness slide down your cheeks
these very words breathe the morning
sing sky and sea and earth into being

sky has no pieces
songs have no words
sea has no wetness
earth has no solidity
wind has no breath
nor footprints to erase
no tears to dry
nor day to unfold

this magical enchantment of song of thought of words spins and twists and weaves the dream of love and love lost
it cannot look beyond itself
it has no before or after
all edges are words
thought cannot escape itself
it is thought
love cannot escape itself
it is love

...and I stood on the edge of sorrow
casting daydreams into an endless sea
looking for ripples that would reflect my face
and melt me into sky

sorrow swallowed me
the ground gave way
there was no earth nor sea nor sky

I was simply a story of echoes
liquid transparency flowing into and through its reflection
a mirage of utter brilliance
longing to drink its own light




the self is not a virus or a contagion it is the most beatififul jewel in the universe




love has no lines to read
her eyes burn all pages
consume all the books of knowing
all the love songs
all the fairy tales of love that enchanted you
birthed you into the enchantment that you are

you are a flowing reflection that has no source
a dream of flowering and wilting
infinite beauty melting into beauty
petals
falling through their own colors

softly
softy 
songs fall through their own words
love soars through the dream of love

there is no hush that precedes love's song
nor is there any sound
it does not arise out of anything or nothing
and has no road to travel
it cannot be captured or known
yet you can hear it in the rhythm of day and night
love and love lost
birth and death
this searing brilliant aliveness is apparent always
without time or non time
this love light that seems to be outside of you
is you



Maybe your life up until now has been an elaborate dream? Maybe this is still the dream... maybe it is a dream that you are the dreamer... maybe it is a dream that you are being dreamt... how would you know?




when the entire known world is known to be imaginary ...love a dream... tears, rainbows, the morning birds in the plum tree just emerging from the dark... 

my beautiful husband reading by a salt lamp and me at my computer singing ... real and unreal, true and false, here and there... known and un-known... 
what can be said about what is not a what?

is this love is this wonder is this beauty is this heart breaking? there is no longer trying to find what this is... simply a delicious unknowing... no trying to capture what is felt... as there is no one separate from feeling... yet the words flow the song sings itself and I am these wide eyes watching these letters pour onto the screen and certain feelings are named.. and I cannot find a place where I am or where I am not... 

and I remember when every word seemed solid and real and a tree was a thing separate from me and when love seemed like a thing I could have... and tears flow and tears flow and tears flow....

no one is playing a role... we are these imaginary personas, choice-less holograms dancing in a mirage, a stupendous enchantment where there is love and love lost... and beauty and tears and sunrises and sunsets.... 
... birth and death... 

life as a human being is full of great joy and great sorrow
we are this humanness we share... 
there is no one under the flowing persona, this thought dream ...no one choosing or having belief or thought or feeling...

...and it all feels like love... 
love has no boundaries it cannot be contained... 
it cannot be held in your heart, you know that...

life cannot be captured... you cannot step outside of all this....
this symphony of perception has no parts and is not a thing until named... attention seems to move and rest, yet it is thought which is creating and distinguishing this from that... 

love and love lost simply a love story that no one writes... no hands type the words no mouth holds the vowels for just a bit longer to feel the roundness and fullness of words... 
word is a word...

and thought spins and spins and it may feel like there is a center to the dream it weaves... and it may not... and it may feel like there are separate things and moments and events... and it may not... there is no right or wrong way to feel...
no right or wrong way to live or love or die... 
life sings itself
just like this
and looks and feels like anything at all



there are no answers to your questions other than 
You are the seeking 
and there is nothing to find


Men, like women, are center-less jewels 
spinning...
Infinite rays of reflected light... 
echoes of bedtime stories and soap operas and terrifying and laughter filled movies ...joyful and heart breakingly beautiful fluid memories... liquid portraits flowing through a water color dream scape of passion and darkness and long easeful evenings when the sun slides across the horizon just so...    


there is nothing to capture or pinpoint in an edgeless circle... no one can hide their beauty completely as the longing to hide is part of it... 
the brain acts and reacts according to its programming... there is no one programmed or conditioned... nothing under or having this thought dream... 

I never wanted to be a man or a woman when I was a kid and it has never felt like I was a woman... 
girl? maybe...
young or old?... not really... 
finding nothing here, not even a here... and no one there 
No other... 
tears 

and we seem to arise and disappear in the flash of no tomorrow... 
achingly beautiful that I can seem to dance in this love light 
share this thing called a story... 
which is all the stories ever heard... blended into a fleeting dream character who sits on the couch in the middle of the night
wind softly brushing through the trees
her thumb tapping a lit glass screen
....love letters to no one magically appearing and dissolving through the window into wind... 
and it is wonder it is love it is nothing at all... 



we exist only in the touching, yet we can never touch...
the lines that define us are as thick as thought
and as we are thought, we cannot erase ourselves...
when thought ceases it is the end of us and our world

we appear to emerge as this imaginary love light
spinning between two reflections
in sharing our stories we seem to merge, as we are these stories... 
of longing for love
and longing to love so deeply we disappear...

in this sharing we recognize our humanness.... 
and there is no wondering whose words
whose tears
whose joy and sorrow…
this deep love that we feel
is the love that we are

we remain, sublimely bittersweetly alone
spinning in our own dream
there is no center
nor edge
yet... across the vast emptiness
I hear the echo of my own tears




when our cherished teachers are criticized our beliefs are challenged and as we are beliefs our very existence is challenged!

Everyone seems beautiful to me! 

I see no person under thought belief feeling or action, just a flow of beauty... choice-less holograms dancing in a dream ballet of wonder.





early light pours into the garden hush
first breath of morning rustles unseen leaves

no one dances in this ballet of light in light
we are echoes of love songs
of cricket songs in the dark
calling out for love

we hear our own voice as it is carried in the wind
there is no one to answer
no one who waited a lifetime to hear the resonance of her own tears
falling
into a chorus
and found only an embrace of empty winds
reflections soaring through utter darkness
never finding a source to this all encompassing light

I danced with my reflection on the smooth canyon walls
light and shadow began to blur
time and distance lost their bearing
was I the dancer or was I being danced?
the background music swelled and the wave caught me as I caught the wave
ocean fell through its own wetness

pirouette of wind dances in the tree tops
soars through me
I am the wind dancing





sun falls through moon
day falls through night
time slides through its own echo
heaven and hell fall though each other

there was no gate to freedom
no door to love
no arms to embrace the light
no words to capture words
no thought to circle thought
no ideas to erase ideas
no love to find or lose

the circle surrounds itself
loses itself in the spinning
the spinning erases itself
along with the imaginary center

all sound
all silence
all movement
and all stillness
simply empty dreams
soaring across the wilderness 
the vast
unknowable
unknown
an assumption, like all other things

a dream of nothing
soaring through the dream of everything
of love of sorrow of your great aloneness
drifting without sails or wind or ocean
weeping laughing bleeding
singing
itself

reaching to embrace yourself 
you fall through your own arms
and there is only this infinite embrace

utterly intimate 
there is no center
nor boundary
to love




all memory is felt as fluid.... 
liquid portraits painting an imaginary dancer of wind

there is no one underneath thought who has memory,
no story teller no pen no hand to hold the pages as they dissolve into wind 
no heart to hold this love as it soars
free of all stories of love
twisting and twirling and loving every love story ever written or told

softly
gently 
songs sing themselves and disappear as afterimages seem to weave this thought dream, this sky ballet 

delicate fluted wings elegantly almost slice the sky 
but the blue never parts 
the edgeless-ness is never ripped into mirrored shards of ownership... 
but reflections seem to form and slide through each other...

infinite echoes painting this fairy tale of wonder 
of love and love lost and ballerinas spinning on a jewelry box 
...a little girl watching 
dreaming of dissolving into an endless pirouette of wind

I am a river of clouds pouring through a cloud canyon... rainbows and shapes  seem to appear  and dissolve... but it is all clouds... 

there is no river 

there are no clouds




naked light
sears your skin
penetrates you deeply
burns places inside you never knew existed
melts the looking glass you thought you were
the world of all and everything is consumed in this conflagration
and the illusion of an inside and an outside fades into the song of a mourning dove on a telephone wire
her softness cannot be seen
but it is felt

backbeat of memory paints in the blank spaces
the blind spot in between forever and never...
the silence in between the notes...
you are the music of all things bursting into your world
rainbow light... 
gently sifting through the forest of words
illuminating a softness that is the end of belief in the dream
this dream of unparalleled wonder
that you are 



Friday, August 21, 2020

The Singer Disappears

 sun melts behind the mountain

canyon breathes a waltz of trees and sky
trails of burning shadows flow across the garden
I drink deeply this beauty
as it drinks me
surround sound so intricate so simple
so intimate so vast
there is no answer no questions for sky
why colors
why wind
why beauty
why love
all words have disintegrated into a primal sound
inclusive of all senses
naked aliveness breathes through me as me
and I dance adorned in evening
I am a feathered silhouette
plumes of rainbows soar through infinite shades of love
falling
falling
into the words the breath the love I never left

poems are ribbons of words that cannot hold the wind
or sky 
softly fading into the long
slow
colors
of night

sky sails through the edge of clouds
burning
silence
in your eyes

music of moon Lillies in the dark
shadows drift through shadows
burning
sunlight in your eyes

trails of memory weave a forest of moon lace into sky
we are the songs of ancient prayer flags
colors burning 
wind

songs are afterimages of this searing brilliance
we cannot see this love light
we are it

the enormity of unknowing
drifts into the dream of knowing
all is lost and found
in this day dream of echoes
burning

this dream dreaming itself... ideas slide into ideas and an entire universe is created 
Not even star dust exists without us 


there is no god or source seeing through your eyes 
You are not A thought 
Can you find when a thought begins and ends as it is happening? 
Can you find when a moment begins and ends as it is happening
Lol 
No 
As there is no you separate from thought looking at it or having thought 

can you find anyone or any thing looking? You want me to tell you what’s looking for you feel that there MUST BE SOMETHING! 

That feeling of separation is what you are... the feeling is because the belief is... the belief that no one has... 
...belief is a concept 
Feeling an idea... 

so if you are this belief how can you find it or erase it? 
I am not saying look for what’s looking as there simply is no one TO look... or not look...


mind is just a word for the thought stream making it seem like a thing 
All words seem to create things.., 
Thing is a word 
Word is a word 
Thought is a word 
There is no untangling this flowing web of thought 
No center no edge no substance nor emptiness to thought...  no one having thought no one peering out of your eyes
No looking
No eyes... 


What is energy? You can talk all day about energy but it will be simply describing... no one can know what things are as things are thoughts...
thought is thought...

even calling this a thought dream is the dream painting itself 
Can you really ever know what’s going on? Can you step outside of it? Can you find an edge? Is there an outside? Is there an inside?
Can you ever really know what anything is? 
You can never know what’s going on as there is no you to capture or know it 
Trying to know it is what’s going on.
Trying to figure out the story is the story 
It’s inescapable... the dream paints itself
Just like this


you want me to tell you who you are and what the hell is going on and all that arises is fleeting flowing description... a thought stream that paints us into the dream of separate things and events... and all this description of the dream is the dream dreaming itself... 

I can try to paint the story of what it feels like... spin a web of thought and send it to you and this is the dream painting itself... there is no me nor you nor dream.... 
nor reality nor a you to find it...
real and unreal 
Meaning and non meaning....
Time dimension direction... ALL qualities and characteristics are words
Concepts 
Thought 

There are no things called words without thought 
No thought without thought... 

I am a story like you... and in the telling of this tale we seem to emerge... and exchange words... and in this dance this ballet of thought seemingly sliding into and around thought... an echo seems to appear... 

and it feels like love falling in love with itself



how wonderful that we are preferences and opinions and beliefs... nuthin' underneath! lol and that is belief... its belief all the way.... yet is feels like there is no one believing belief... no solidity... no hands grasping nor heart yearning for a thing called truth or meaning or permanence... we are simply wondrous thought dreams... flowing... weaving themselves into the shape of a heart... drunk on this love... 

I am the loving of you... I am the missing of you... no you nor me nor love... when I hear your heart song it sings me dances me twirls me into this dream of love where we are pirouettes of echoes... where love dances us spins us into a flowing tapestry ....colors merging and unweaving themselves... tattered threads of color of sound of what never was nor will ever be soaring as wind soars through us... a flying carpet a magical dance of wonder... of an unfettered nakedness that no one wears... of tattered sails in the moonlight... wind dancing.... 
...and no one wondering what or who or when or if or why....




you want to know what’s going on...
someone’s GOTTA KNOW! 
but I am a thought dream like you
how could a thought dream possibly know what thought is....





and my hands desperately combed the air trying to catch the light the magic an unknowable treasure 
....this edgeless love
yet all the while the dance of my hands my heart this longing was the light the magic the love...

I am an amorphous thought dream a wondrous prism a whirlwind a kaleidoscope painting a world with color and light and beauty
no hand holds the brush that sweeps love and beauty into the universe 
there is no one behind the eyes the lips the tears these rivers of ocean song painting this world this galaxy this infinite cosmos... singing eons of time and space into a shimmering hologram of crystalline transparency
spinning a magicians tale a imagined story a fairy land of wonder of love and love lost and deep deep despair and grief and unutterable joy bursting with light and shadow and the breath of morning
and the last sigh of moon
the day dream slips on her rainbow eyes and pours us
nakedly unabashedly beyond freedom or bondage into the rain
caught in the spiderwebs outside the back door
where love rushed in when I was not looking
and captured me and eviscerated me and burned me at her alter
in her pyre she consumed herself...
and it was me

all was lost
the map the treasure the seeking for other
the very ground collapsed
all yesterdays and tomorrows all hope all fear
all this and that
and in-betweens...

I am the story of this fairy tale girl falling into the dream of wind and rainbows sliding through me
and I am wind and love and rainbows dancing
colors pour through my lips my eyes my fingertips
I am the reaching out to touch
you
and there is no you nor me
and somehow this spinning thought dream feels like love
an edge-less center-less jewel of infinite hue
a surround sound of love
this symphony of perception and its inseparable recognition
not one not two not many
not none




naked wind
silken sky
tides of thought
bloom and recede
echoes on the lake have no shadow
yet they seem to sparkle so
singing ancient songs
of hidden harbors lost long ago
it was simply a mariner's tale that led you to the edge of moonlight

looking up
looking down
trying to peer through the mirror
there is only a vast unending nothingness
all light all darkness all space sucked out

turning twisting you cannot see yourself
you crash through the mirror and discover there was no one on the other side
no one looking
no middle or sides at all
you are just a sparkling dream
a baseless reflection 
flowing through an echo land dream of space
and time

enlightenment is not about figuring life out, or finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow
it is the recognition that the rainbow is imaginary
that this life as we know it is a thought dream
dreaming itself
and there is no way out
there is no out
no one to travel an empty road
no one left to look for somewhere
or nowhere

this is impossible to kiss with words
as all words are razors seemingly creating and splitting up the known world
nothing need be be added
or taken away
there is no truth to find
true and false are words
all enlightenment songs are empty
even this one





the death of sound and silence
parts my lips into flowers
poems bloom
my heart is a song of wings soaring
petals
falling
settling
into pools of wonder
rippling through your reflection
I see my eyes
our eyes
meet and recognize this love
boundless
without time
or place
or reason
a peace that has no echo
but is all echoes blooming
falling through their own softness
a pirouette of love that has no edges
nor sound
nor silence




that hole in your heart you have been trying to fill since you were very small
is bottomless
edgeless
someday this vast measureless emptiness may swallow you
it is you

love's heart magic pierces you
kisses you deeply
she never leaves
you can never forget
even as you try to remember

she sings your name
beckons you to the edge of her song
where your world ends
and nothing begins
the heart of your being dissolves
into infinite emptiness

all this love
you were trying to protect
for fear of losing it
was never yours
it explodes and implodes simultaneously
erasing all imaginary walls

crickets sing
in the dark where you lay bleeding
your skin shredded
your heart eviscerated
an unending silence blossoms
it is love singing
her scent is never not heard
her flavor never not tasted
her kiss is on your lips
it sings you
throughout the day and night time dream
she drifts
painting the universe with an unassailable peace

this is love
this is emptiness
this is everything
...yet this is nothing
at all




weightless are
oceans of reflections
liquid light
pours through your eyes
there are no things to see
there is no beholder
love has no echo
she is all echoes
and the hush in-between 

silence deepens
falls through itself
the end of light and shadow leaves not darkness
the end of sorrow and joy has no end

when is life not
when you are not
anything or nothing



We assume there is a physical world but it can never be known 
Only indirectly through concepts 
Thought paints the known world of this and that 
But there is really no one or thing that knows
Nor is there any thing to know 
Knowing is a concept as is the knower and known.
This tumbling twirling world of thought has no center or beginning or end or edge or meaning or non meaning.... no outside or inside... it paints you and the worded world and time and space and dimension and it can NEVER escape itself. 
All trying to find an origin or substance or any solidity whatsoever is impossible as all these are thought... illusion... a magician’s tale a hologram a fairy tale of love and beauty and wonder... and birth and death and deep deep sorrow and grief and unutterable joy... 
and a someone who seems to be on a path towards a never arising next, when he or she will find a treasure called enlightenment... when they will realize that there is no next nor enlightenment nor any one to get it or have it. 

Life can never be understood. There is no one separate from it to grasp it.  Without edges, life is not a thing.  There are no things.  The thought stream or mind seems to create things like life and a someone who does life, and to whom life happens.... it seems to create a thing called thought and a thinker... feeling and a someone who feels... pretty magical yes? 
How can thought see itself... all turning and twisting is just more thought...

This worded world, this thought dream, this conceptual universe, this virtual reality is the only world we can ever know 
It is the only place where we exist 
Where love and beauty live... 
After the shift it feels somehow surreal and more vibrant and alive than before.
Knowing and feeling that all separation is imaginary... 
is not the end of the dream of separation. It is still the dream. 
The dream of enlightenment is the dream of no longer believing the dream




I cannot help or harm you
I cannot give you anything or nothing... 
I am as real as you ... and tomorrow... 
I am your echo and you are mine... 
we exist only as a spinning day dream of light and shadow... 
and it feels beautiful ...like love dancing with love





there is no source that moves me
I am not an instrument of wind
wind sighs its own breath
these lips these teeth this tongue this mouth
this heart knows the song of wind
for it is my song
and yours
the in-breath of time swirls
through its exhale
the pause in between never leaves
or begins

you can feel the backbeat of your own aliveness
it is obvious always
bursting into bloom
infinite petals radiating and dissolving into light
spilling flowing pouring through light

there is no silence of wind
it exists only in its movement
I am this song
these very words
skimming and dancing across the page
where do you appear and where do I end
where is the end of this song...
or do words continue to flow
after you read this poem?

the song sings itself
just like this
when the singing stops
we disappear