Are you in the music or is the music in you? This pulsating rhythm of life, your footfalls dancing, your breath, your very lips kissing the words that kiss you, that sing this marvelous song of this and that, you and me, here and there, this and that, into this heart beat of existence. Does the song sing you or do you sing the song?
A shimmering flowing carpet of light and shadow reveals an uninterrupted seamless symphony of touch taste sight sound sensation thought and emotion. This obvious vibrant aliveness, this bejeweled wonderland flows through you in you as you. No lines can be found between water and wetness, between your lips and the kiss, between your tears and your shining beautiful eyes, between you and what's looking, between you and the kaleidoscopic sound and light show. The feeling of solidity between inside and outside comes from the belief in words, every one seems to split up infinite spaciousness. Yet you cannot choose to not believe, as you are the belief in separation. You cannot untie the imaginary lines but it can happen that they are no longer believed, and known and felt to be imaginary. That's all enlightenment really is.
You are like the beautiful swirling iridescence on the surface of a soap bubble, the space inside is the same as on the outside. Simply a prismatic interface between the unknown and the worded world. We exist only as this swirling thought dream, this water color passion play of time and dimension and measurement. But where is the beginning and end to a thought or feeling or moment? You arise as the symphony of all these and are not separate from this wondrous music, there are no separate moments, are there?
Where is your last breath, was there one outside of love's storybook of someone sailing out to sea? Where is your next breath, is there one? Where does the light come from in your dreams? Gazing out gazing in, where is time, where are the colors you sing? Where is the rainbow that pierced the stormy evening and your heart many moons ago? Where is all that love you were afraid to lose?
You are like flowing water in a mirage, transparent mirrored sun light dancing reflection, spinning twisting twirling whirl pooling rushing roaring silently singing multifaceted shimmering empty jewelry coming from nowhere going to nowhere timelessly pouring sun into sun.
How the ripples catch sunlight and darkness waving mountains and sky and your beautiful reflection into a breathtaking fluid fabric without beginning or end. A timeless tale unfolds of time, and joy and sorrow and deep kisses and laughter. No inside or out, these unfathomable songs reaching out reaching in finding no middle or edge. Never touched always touching, kissed from without kissed from within. Songs from nowhere songs from everywhere, simply this poem of unbearable marvel, this magic of life dancing a daydream without cause or direction or any place to rest.
This sublime and bittersweet alone-ness, knowing you can only touch your own heart has ravished you and left you dancing alone, in love as love through love. The longing to kiss knowing there are no others paints my silhouette in sky with sky. Under the blue there is not even nakedness. No one to be free or bound, no strings ever held up the clouds, there is nothing to be untied.
All that effort to repair the scaffolding you thought prevented the sky from crushing you falls away when you realize you have never been separate from vast endless sky. How it hurt so to try to remember to sign your name on every tear.
Love opened a skylight to madness, but you fell back through into an empty house, stripped of everything, of nothing, even your nakedness, even love. Yet love trembles and hums in these transparent walls and reveals your tender humanness unadorned with hope and fear and need of next.
Resplendent ease bathes the dream in an all encompassing exploding sun lit kiss. An ecstatic love dance a constant union of what was never apart, light kissing light, space kissing space, life kissing itself through your beautiful beautiful lips. Suspended as not even nothing as wide open awe and living and loving as the dream of you of me of we.
Calliope sings of a better place, but there is no past or future or someplace in between. It's only the moon-glow on a shimmering lake that reveals the watercolor of your face. For what would you be without forgotten dreams of what may come or what has been? Flowing thought paints these rich and wondrous hues of love's tale written on a timeline between birth and death.
It's always only utterly intimate as there are no others to kiss. You may howl at that moon of your great alone-ness, and I will hear your bittersweet song. But it is always my song echoing across the vastness. The inside of a side-less kiss. This is the very deepest intimacy and as vast as limitless space. Between meaning and non meaning there is nothing to grasp and no empty hand. Beautiful source-less reverberating echoes rippling sky into sky. A soundless sound trembles and explodes in your heart and reveals that this was never your heart or your life. Always obvious this beautiful aliveness soaring pouring through you in you as you.
Are the trees reaching up to kiss the sun, or is the sun reaching down to caress the trees? Is the wind dancing in the tree tops or do the trees sway and leaves shimmer in the wind? It is only words that make that distinction, you know they are not separate, and that you are not separate from the perception of this dance. Without the lasso of words which have never captured the wind, there are no separate things like wind and trees and your lovers gentle caress. Nor a cheek nor lips to kiss nor a you underneath that mask of fear of unknowing.
You are like the memory of a footprint in sky, a wisp of a cloud that seems to form a hand reaching out to grasp the sun, dissolving. Sun kissed shadows ripple and flow and you cannot touch this magic of life as you are not separate from it. Is life in you or are you in life? Such obvious vibrant aliveness inside and out, all lines are imaginary, aren't they? In and out, here and there and of and through, all dream directions going nowhere going everywhere, you are a phantom in a magicians tale, a swirling thought dream vanishing just as it seems to appear.
Most story book characters seem to be on the roller coaster of hope and fear of a never arriving next, and that's not better or worse as there is no chooser of thought or feeling. I have not won a prize of constant bliss, I'm just not here. Yet I seem to appear as shimmering reflections in your beautiful eyes. I will meet you knowing there is no you nor me except in this dream world of love and magic. You appear to me as unutterably beautiful just as you think you are. There is no special or right or wrong way to appear, no special way to be. Simply this, this unbearable beauty of life appearing all by itself, looking and feeling like anything at all.
And what can be said of all of the above? Just a bunch of zip zap nonsense words painting dream clouds in the sky. There are no things nor non things to be true or false. Simply all and everything and nothing at all self arising and simultaneously self releasing without meaning or non meaning. This is far too simple to grasp. Trying to grasp this creates an empty hand.
There never were any shards of blue, always only this sky like vastness. Knowing we are made up is like a Surreal dream and yet more vibrant and intense than could ever be articulated. Rich and lush beyond measure. Beyond joy or sorrow.
Silence sings through a day dream of un-paralled wonder. How amazing that under your adornment of star light there is not even nakedness.
Self remains knowing it never existed. Mangoes remain knowing there are no things until named. Love remains knowing that there are no two to love. Knowing that there is no one who holds beliefs and opinions doesn't end them.
I exist as beliefs and opinions knowing I am made up. I love myself and I still love mangoes and I still love love.
Beyond beyond. More empty than pure unbound nothingness. This ravishingly beautiful emptiness extends everywhere and nowhere simultaneously without movement or non movement, without direction or non direction. Containing no things or non things yet including all and everything and nothing at all.
Love a glue that spins around an imaginary center and unleashes the fluid canvas of vast endless sky falling through sky as water color dream bows arch their backs into the sun.
Gaping cracks in the sea wall of fear burst into beautiful bloom as the dam of unknowing reared its terrifying head and ate all your sea dreams in an un-tethered ocean that time forgot. You had cast your ripples of loveliness across sun bathed echoes searching for an answer to the questions you can no longer remember.
Quite unexpectedly as if by magic, a nameless sound ripped open your heart, silently exploding and imploding into infinite intimate vast spaciousness. Winds rushed across the empty fields and ripples of forgotten dreams slid into echoes of a name no one wears. There is no song not born of empty wings of desire plunging its tailspin into ricochets of wonder. Empty parentheses radiate spirals of overlapping underlapping waves of joy and sorrow tapping on a sunlit window, reaching through and kissing your beautiful face.
Waves silently weeping and laughing hang suspended as they crash into and through themselves, a tympani of awe roars through your speechless heart and sings of the lack of tomorrow's daydream as you soar into the folds of night.
Words soar and scatter through these empty pages weaving a passion play of gusts and shadows through pillared halls of moonbeams dancing in a wind ballet. Oceans of light pour through waves of prism'd jewels of light shimmering into and through this dance.
Cleansed by tears the painted day washes off revealing a stark emptiness as you realize you had been caressing a future that has never arrived. It is your own love that rips you apart from the inside and out until a sideless glance reveals the seamless ease of life doing itself. How beautifully life swishes through your toes and writes your name in puddles of wonderment. The edges of your footprints collapse as the roots were imaginary that held you in sky's grasp. You fall until you are the falling falling through itself, and an essence of sweetness subsumes the wakeless wake of dreams. Wetness, the liquidity of home, embraces your nakedness.
And where was the song of the meadow lark that you heard yesterday eve echoing in the distant canyon? Where was her path on the evening breeze? Where did your love go when you were not?
The dream was ripped wide open. An empty swing softy moved in the evening breeze, and nakedness ran through the open fields.
I reach out my hand to touch the blue and it is sky and space and my hand in an edgeless brilliant transparent bejeweled light stream singing swirling pouring through me as me.
This ecstatic love dance of one of two of many of none. Such a tender delicate fragrance of this, that has no words yet includes all words, twists and twines into a lush rich dreamscape, ever spiraling, ever expanding, ever collapsing, ever arising, ever dying. A magnificent shooting star consumed by its own love dissolves into itself.
The warmth of a thousand suns in the kiss of midnight.
I see you feel this magic, I recognize it in the beauty of your shining eyes. For what is the wetness of tears, no one can say. What is this warmth of love or pain of sorrow or the splendid incomprehensibility of wonder itself?
Unspeakably marvelous that you cannot touch life yet everywhere you point inside or out, anguish or awe, you are not separate from it, or the pointing.
Sunrise bathes your tender face as last night's kisses run down your heart into this sea of dreams where you dance. No safe harbor to arrive at and hide. You soar as wetness in water, where sky has collapsed into sea and sea into sky, awash, adrift with no rudder or sail or direction or path to an imaginary future, or a wake or trace of an imaginary past. There is no center or edge yet you remain as this centerless jewel, the dream spinning around you creating infinite facets that all reflect your beautiful face.
There is no path to where you have never left, there is no key to unlock a door that never was. It was only your footsteps that formed themselves that seemed to create direction and purpose, and imprints of time upon your multicolored shadow as you danced in starlight, showering the spark of love's beauty back into the skies.
Blue sky spills across the canyon, pools as silent slumber in shadows deep embrace. Soft lights gaze as wordless wonder sings a shimmering ripple casting dreams into an edgeless sea. Splashing rainbows caress your tenderness as wind paints an empty heart to hold your beautiful tears. Infinite prisms skip colors across your doorstep awaiting your magical adornment of this sea of love.
You have never left this magic that we share in our aloneness, together. It calls you beckons you, 'hello goodbye hello'. You cannot hide forever from this magic that you are, as even hiding from it or trying to grasp it reflects love's beauty in your eyes. You have never left home as you are emptiness overflowing in every direction without direction. You have never been nor will ever be, yet here you are, such unspeakable beauty, wrapped in your own infinite intimate embrace...
What is that ache inside your chest?
What is that sound that keeps you awake at night?
It is the roar of the universe ripping your heart open and wings of love taking flight.
Unraveled from the fetal position your toes stretch into the light ....
Naked and unafraid awash in moon glow...
(From my second book, ‘Your Infinite Intimate Embrace”
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