Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Winged Emptiness Blooms


Wind blows
Hearts beat and brake
Rain and tears fall
Gathering in pools of echoes that shimmer in their own reflection.

For no reason the moon rises and shadows of memory flow across the leaf scattered path.
That no one followed
That no one danced upon.
Yet you find yourself dancing with the darkness and the sliver of ancient moon.

The garden a stage where we seem to meet in the birth of night touching day,
In between sky.
We no longer look for shadows under the wind’s gathering of leaves from autumn.
No more dreams to burn...

Winter clothes itself with tears
It’s nakedness reaches up through the long silence.
Love melts the shadows of ice crystals flowing.
The darkness was never empty
Nor full
You could no longer hide from your own shadow or your own beautiful reflection.
It burnt its name in your heart
That you treasured
For awhile,
Until the vastness claimed itself.
Spring grew into summer and time flowed back into and through itself. 


no words....
So many words 
Spring blossoms and falls 
Scattering velvet petals among our footfalls
That no one can follow or grasp or trace, even memory flows along the river that we drowned in long ago far away when we lost the belief that we were unchanging 
Wind sings our name 
Our name is love 
It beckons us 
It is us


It’s a bittersweet beautiful melancholy 
Time 
Life 
Sadness 
Joy 
Awe 
Happen 
For no one 
To no one 
Yet I’m here 
Sobbing



Emptiness a word to try to swallow the ocean
Consciousness another to try to calm the sea 
Truth an idea, an imaginary port on these edgeless waters 
God a concept to try to hide 
Your naked aloneness 
The ever looming horizon 
Sunset beckons...

I see your brokenhearted beauty 
Through these eyes that are not mine
Through these lips these teeth this tongue 
These words that we share sing themselves 
This edgeless momentary that burns itself 
Is the fire of your aliveness



Slip stream of life 
Wind
My empty breath 
Flower of moon 
Falls through this open hand 

Drinking deeply this softness 
Falling petals paint the tapestry of wind 
Flowing through itself 

Glass casts its own shadow
Illuminates your reflection 
Dissolves as you swallow 
Life as it swallows you. 


Where is the beginning and end of sky 
When sky is your nakedness 
Your aloneness 
The majesty 
That no one wears


And I am a symphony of words falling through a song of unknowing


If ya can’t catch what’s going on it’s because yer not separate from it.  
There simply is no now 
Nor anyone to be in or out of it.

There is no outside to what’s going on
And no inside...




the self, like a canvass stretched across the horizon, a wall of fear keeping out the sun, and the knowing of the inevitable sun's set.
the paint may crack and crumble and light begin to shine... in you as you through you... laughing and weeping madly as the horizon falls into sky into sea, into itself where never and forever collide... it was a beautiful water color dreamscape flowing on a river and a magical idea that there was someone holding the paint brush, and a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow of fleeting... colors... that bled into this song of wordless wonder that sings like this...
this sumptuous sensuous aliveness that has no words yet includes all of them, that has no things, yet includes all things, that has no wonder, yet wonder is found 
everywhere
no where
here
yet not
this bird sings



where did you get all these words concepts ideas that flow through your mind stream? is it YOUR mind stream? 
obviously this flow of thought does not go where you want it to.
obviously this flow of feeling does not flow as you would wish.
can you find the beginning and end to a thought or feeling or moment?
are there indeed separate thoughts feelings or moments?
there would have to be a you outside of all this to find separate thoughts and feelings and moments, wouldn't there...
to gather time and plant a sunrise


where are the edges to your heart?
what is this ache for the un-nameable
this beauty we feel yet cannot capture?
the wholeness the fullness this emptiness that shimmers so?
this sonorous silence that ripples its tenderness on your face?
is it your song?
this song of wind
did it kiss your cheek
as it dried your tears late last night when the moon was swallowed in wonder?
is the wetness, the dryness, the moonlight dancing in you or outside of you?
are there sides?
can you find a space between your cheek and the wind's kiss?
between a kiss and your lips?
between a breath and the song?
when is the dancer not the dance?
when is the singer not the song?

perhaps it is the not knowing that is so beautiful
are you separate from this beauty of unknowing?


If ya can’t catch what’s going on it’s because yer not separate from it.  
There simply is no now 
Nor anyone to be in or out of it.

There is no outside to what’s going on
And no inside...



spring rains 
Seasons flowing 
Unbound treasure 
How I used to long for the first robin song

This is it 
She whispered 
There is no that 
Nor this...

This broken hearted beauty 
paints our silhouette with sky in sky...
The paint falls off the glass and the 
Transparency of even love shines through

Sky just as vast and ungraspaspable in the night time dream
Lit from within 
Lit from without 
The moon shines 
Not from the sun 
But in your eyes

Through this eyes of aliveness 
That no one wears 
Brilliant searing transparency 
Illuminates our reflection 
Through each other’s eyes 

liquid eyes of fire 
Looking through this lens of love
Dissolving into our own desire  
Chrysanthemum clouds billow and weep 
We watch ourselves blown away 
Ashes in the wind 


Not even his own tears held the wetness he longed for




I have tasted your heart 
It is mine as well 
Beautiful all encompassing radiance 
Like love
Like sorrow
Like awe
Like nothing at all
This searing brilliance 
Burns even its own fire 




First robin song 
Soft breath of morning 
On my pillow 
On the terrace
Long shadows fill
The space of empty moon 

Colors burst open 
The door of night 
Mountains and valleys swoon 
Cottonwoods in spring 
Slow dance of wonder 
Soaring down the canyon 
Riding the winds 



light and wind 
sea and surf 
flowing through her as her...
Winged emptiness blooms





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