Friday, June 21, 2019

Falling into the abyss of love

gazing into my reflection
trying to see what is underneath
my own gaze
trying to peer
behind the mirror
the searing gaze of love
melted all ideas of love
into a sea of primordial moon glow
naked in the summer sun

no one wears this nakedness
these echoes of echoes
reverberating through the vastness
there is no solidity to be found
nor emptiness to dance

lost as the looking
the watcher fell through herself
no one was left
not even an empty shadow
whirling down main street
dancing with her reflection in the darkened windows
playing in the carpet of reflections
splashing in the pools of echoes
and the street lights shimmering

edgeless beauty flows through me as me
I soar as this sea of magic pours into itself
featherless
wingless
skinless...
wind in wind
sky in sky
space in space
emptiness in emptiness

spinning dancing radiance
spiraling inward and outward
dissolving all sides
the middle slides into itself
and disappears
where are the stories written without letters or words
or sounds
...or silence

all of life shimmers in the tree tops dancing
in the wild winds singing
through these words the magic of love sings
all words write this story
this fairy tale of love
is that we are each other's stories
I do not exist alone
we emerge in the spinning of tales
sung by no one
sung by everyone
blooming and wilting
caressing and forming us
from the inside and out
these lines tell our stories
we do not exist without them
we are them

every word paints this dream time love song
love is inescapable
yet it is not even nothing
without these very words

my story your story
whose story is not beautiful?
I am a flowing tapestry of all the stories
ever heard and yet to be sung
or murmured late at night
from crickets hidden in the garden
feasting on fallen leaves
singing the stories of wind and trees and the growing darkness
shadows falling into their own shadows
our delicate bodies
and the tender wetness of our eyes
all singing
I love you


the great mystery you long to understand
to touch to feel to caress...
to have it caress you
is the edge-less-ness....
that cannot be found or touched or understood
it is everything and nothing
as there are no things
yet everything is included...

you sense this magic
for it is everywhere
and nowhere
it cannot be attained
or grasped
as there is no one separate from it
to reach it or hold it...
there are no 'its'

trying to grasp what has no words
with words
vowels held in your mouth
feeling the roundness slipping out...
the staccato of consonants rupturing
between the lips and tongue
seemingly capturing space
throwing lassos around the sun
slicing the sky into pieces
heaven raining through the cracks
flowers sprouting through the sidewalk

there is no pause to look for
no prior to words
nor after
there is no inside or outside to this love song
that sings itself

looking for the pause creates a looker
trying to peer under the alphabet you might find a nothing
which is a thing...
what is not even nothing?
what is emptiness
after you pour away the emptiness
what is love
beyond all ideas of love?

when all ideas are seen to be ideas
when all words are seen to be imaginary bites of sky
there is no one to look
under the words
no one to be free or bound by words
no one to escape the dream
as you are a fairy tale character
an imaginary center
a hologram
a magician's tale
writing itself
with learned shared words...

these words cannot speak of words
or wordlessness
but you know this magic that lies between the lines
you feel it deeply
yet fear it
for when there are no lines
when the song disappears
there is no you
no song
nor love

it is the unknowability of love
which we love
the unknowability of beauty
that is beautiful
the ungraspable nature of life
that is its magic
but you know that


seems I cry a lot since the shift... a friend enters the room and I weep at her beauty... it is like seeing her for the first time... but it is usually silent tear free weeping.... then she was telling me about her friend who is dying... I'm weeping hot tears...

my husband and I are watching a video on John Lennon..... weeping at the beauty, the magic of life and love... they show a village getting bombed... weeping....


....ahhhh the beauty of love and love lost, and the shadows flowing ... light into dark, dark into light... this streaming kaleidoscopic sound and light show ...this love ballet of this and that ... surreal and unreal at the same time....

our sublime humanness.... the knowing that there is no one choosing thought or feeling or belief or action,,,, no thinker no feeler no believer no actor, no conductor ...

we are all simply flowing thought dreams of belief and memory and preference and thought,,, all seemingly referencing a self, a center.... we are center less jewels who's spinning galaxies sometimes almost touch...

that we can never actually touch another is sorrowfully sublime... for when we get closer, our lines dissolve and we disappear... how I love falling into and through you... the swoon of being in love as love through love...

....there is simply nothing here... no one weeping ...no one singing... the huge marvelousness of it all.... no matter what it looks or feels like ...this blooming wilting miracle of life doing itself just like this....



wind rushes and swirls through the tall mountain pines
sweeps itself away
nothing is left
not even an echo
of wind magic
to whisper your name
or wave the long grasses
into a symphony of light and dark
swimming across the earth
all the way to the horizon
drowning in sky
such elegance of sound and silence
the lushness of words
pouring through themselves
without beginning or end
who would know
if they stopped
unless they started again?

words cascade into stories
weave an enchantment
within which someone seems to hover
in between the sensuousness
of love
and nothing at all
the love of everything
and nothing
suspends belief in words
yet disbelief is the song as well

there are no edges to this love song
it sings itself
tumbling whirling softly kissing color and shape
and sound
into this very world
that moves and flows in you
through you
as you

I watch your struggle to change or stop thought
or think in a 'correct manner'
or feel a certain 'right' way
or act more compassionate
or become a 'better' person
or get rid of the self
all based on the belief that there is a you
and a better you somewhere
this imaginary goal of perfection
is what you are

to me you are beyond perfect
including all your attempts to attain perfection
and I weep at your beauty
and this unfathomable beauty of love
it seems to form me and erase me
for without you
without this love
I am nothing at all

if you say 'I love you'
or 'you're beautiful'
all I can see is your unbearable beauty
for here
there is not even nothing
I am the echo of your reflection
weeping


and who is singing these words that bloom inside your skull?
who listens to this thunder that cracks the sky into pieces?
it is the song of the morning mists dissolving
the end of cricket song
and moonlight's caress of the darkness
the end of the night time dream
and the start of the day dream
bathing in the summer sun

sparrows and finches come to the feeders
robins perch on the rim of the ponds
singing a song I have heard since I was very small
some doves swoop into the yard
some of them stay on the tall wires
singing a song of my childhood
tires roll down main street
like ocean waves in the desert
trees bend and sway
all a flying carpet of shadows
and light
a magic show
this illusion of this and that
spontaneously appears

an explosion of sound
these words that seem to paint the day
and create a line between birth and death
morning and night
here and there
sound and silence
you and me

you cannot catch this ever arising
ever disappearing
fleeting momentary
your trying to grasp it
is it

that there must be something more
an answer to the mystery
a key to unlock the magic
is magical isn't it?
your sense that there is something to get
and someone to get it
arises from the feeling that there is something solid
and unchanging inside the swirling
but is there?
is there really anything other
better
more
or next?
have you ever found anything other than life as it seems to appear?

how could there be a wrong or right feeling
or thought
or belief
or action
if there really is no one separate from what is going on?
have you ever found that unchanging someone or thing?
or are you simply thought and feeling
flowing
with no source nor endpoint
nor middle ground on which to stand?

there is no path to where you are
when you are not
all ideas of more other better and next
are ideas
like you
what would happen if it were realized that this was it
always
just as it seems to appear
what ever this looks or feels like?

what if there were no next?
what if thoughts about a never arising next
were just that...
thought dreams?
what if thoughts about what you are
and what you are not
were just that
thoughts?

what if there were no separate thoughts?
can you tell when the beginning or end to a thought occurs?
...maybe you cannot because you are
this flowing fleeting thought dream
that has no movement nor non movement
no inside nor outside
no before thought or after
as all ideas of time dimension causality
all concepts of measurement
were made up
just like you?


Self is the thought stream believed, and the corresponding FELT sense of separation.... of separate things and separate moments and events...
You are not the thinker, there is none. You are the thought stream and the belief in it...
If you were the thinker and chooser of thought you would be able to choose them, yes? If there were a feeler of emotion you would be able to choose how to feel... If there were a conductor of life, perhaps life would be a bit different by now, yes?


where is the edge of the dream
as it slides down the rainbow
and breathes you
sings you
you are its light and color streaming across the vastness
of unknown worlds and stars and suns
and their absence

we are trails of emptiness
that leave no wake
or shadow
sky exploding into sky

the enchantment of love
exhales you
and all the known world
where all lines are imaginary
lassos around a piece of sky
falling shards of shattered mirrors
all reflecting your face
that you cannot see

hollow dreams of moonlight dancing
suspended in between light and shadow
reflected light of a million forgotten suns
gathers and swirls into this dreamtime ballet
waltzing with its own echo
in love as love through love
we emerge as the dance

a chorus of everyones voice
pouring from a nautilus shell
sounds like infinite oceans
breathing
sounds like endless stars
falling
sounds like the unfathomable wondrousness of love
singing


Long arm of light

Reaches Into the canyon

Soft blush of morning

Paints your tenderness

With love’s reflection

What is far

What is near

When there is no middle nor edge

Who sings the sky

And wind

And our sublime aloneness...

This ache for an echo

Is love

There are no shadows

In a world without lines

No music

In a world without love

This song sings itself

Pours down the canyon it paints

Falls through it own melody



we are rippling melodies of silence
breathing
inseparable from the song
we are echoes of memories
the lilting dance of a leaf
falling
after the wind has passed

the slow drift of warmth
as morning pours through the canyon
undertones swirl through overtones
love's heart magic
sings itself
pierces you with its resonance
every word pulses with this knowing
that all words are assumptions
waltzing with their own reflections
spiraling daydreams
cannot catch your hovering beauty
love held in its own hands
sky suspended in sky

the sensuousness of wind
swirling through wind
kissing our tenderness
drying our tears

this heartbeat of love
pours through rhythmless rhythms
unfathomable depths of darkness
explode into a million suns
space falls through space
clouds begin to form and dissolve
sun weeps
bathing in its own warmth
love weeps
at its own tender beauty
we weep
knowing the unfathomable nature of love


there is no one playing a part,,,we exist only as imaginary personas, masks... this is not pre written, life does itself... there is no source or doer or maker of life...

there is no other universe... but what people intuit and long for... this mystery... is really the sublime unknowability of all this...

they long to capture to understand.. when there are no separate things to put together into some kind of understanding.. and no one to do so
and all trying to capture the magic... is magic
yet creates the feeling of a someone... and a goal...


Everyone knows of this seamlessness in an intuited way
Deep down...

unicity is intuited, and conventional knowledge is conceptual.
Made of separate things and events
Putting them together into compositions that seem to create a feeling of completeness or understanding
Seekers long to capture or create what is already the case
Unicity or seamlessness or wholeness and it is very painful
All these are leaned concepts
The looking simply spirals into a beautiful story of unrequited love...
with a central character hunting for what they already know, but cannot face ....as it is too scary...
for if there were no things, there would be no them
no others...
all they have loved simply imaginary personas... tears... just too much sorrow....

which becomes a sublime sorrow and a love beyond all ideas of love...

simply put the magic they seek is already here
as there is no here nor there
it is already you
although there is no you
nor me
nor love...




when this is discovered... all seeking stops
...love sings in your own voice
'I love you
I've missed you
welcome home'


Self is the thought stream believed, and the corresponding FELT sense of separation.... of separate things and separate moments and events...
You are not the thinker, there is none. You are the thought stream and the belief in it...
If you were the thinker and chooser of thought you would be able to choose them, yes? If there were a feeler of emotion you would be able to choose how to feel... If there were a conductor of life, perhaps life would be a bit different by now, yes?


Seekers are the looking for certainty
knowing deep down there is none
That there is not even Nothing to be solid and stable and fixed
No hand holds whatsoever
No god
No source
No awareness
No consciousness
No self
No true self
No ground of being
No one to fall
No where to land
....no safe place in a storm
No where to hide from this feeling of unease

Unknowing is disquieting
when there is the belief that what’s going on can be known
and captured and understood
creates a painful conflict with the feeling that nothing can be known
That nothing can be done to know
and that there is no one to know...
And no one to do or not do anything or nothing to realize that



tall white clouds pour down the canyon
growling black ones follow
folding light into dark
dark into light

wind swept
canyon breathes
mountain air
pours into the hot desert

loosens ends of my hair
tears silken spider webs
cottonwood leaves tossing
falling
falling
swirling dancing
wings
illumined by the last rays of morning
shine and shadow playing
drifting down the trail
through my feet
my breath
my heart
this song

whorls and swirl of wind
mark my fingertips
fading as I age
this song fades
as soon as it is written
paints a dream of wind
as it flows through itself

life dances
in us as us though us
no one writes this song
it sings itself
with every word
that breathes us
phantom shadows
dancing in each other's light
each other's love

we are echoes of wind
tides
rising and falling
on a shoreless sea of dreams


the beauty is the knowing that we cannot know what beauty is... such love for not knowing what love is... such a sublime breathtaking wondrousness that we are amazed at amazement... the unspeakable unfathomable nature of this aliveness... we cannot get away from it or outside of it to capture it or embrace it with words... as we are this beauty this love this aliveness ... we can never see our own beauty... we do not exist without each other.... when you say I love you, you're beautiful there is simply nothing here... or there... simply shimmering reflections... echoes singing... we can never touch as it is our imaginary lines that define us... as without them we disappear into each other... I love you is an echo shimmering dancing with its own reflection


earthen silken silence
of clouds and sky and seamless morning
of wind and trees and waving grasses
of rain and tears and the porch light dripping
my husband sawing on the back porch
the click of the keys of my laptop
tires through the puddles
sky swims in its reflection
waves of sorrow and joy rippling
sing the song of morning
bursting into bloom
just as it wilts
the song of love and love lost
breathes the morning into beauty
and weaves us into love's gentle caress 

our hands our feet our delicate fingertips
our tender hearts
the wetness of our eyes 
our breath our hearts our love
meet in this song 
where we can never touch
but dance 
in love as love through love
life dances us into it's song
by singing itself
just like this




Words echo in my chest
Color the sound of moonlight dancing
Sweep the beaches where no one wanders
Or listens to love songs from empty shells
She no longer waits for her long lost lover
Lost as the love song of no tomorrow
Echoing in this heart
That no one wears

Words sign the ocean with waves 
Of sorrow and wonder and joy
Sing primordial songs 
That no one hears
But everyone feels 
Weaving deeply as the grain in wood
Signs her name with indecipherable clarity
Light dances on water 
Flowing in formless patterns
Their stories can never be told...
But everyone knows them 
We are these stories 
Of love and love lost 
And the ageless beauty of death
These love songs etch eons of rivers into canyons 
And taste the saltiness
Of sea and wind and tears

Wind has no time
It’s song is the rivers laughing 
Tall pines shimmering
There is no before or after
Only the song of our hearts 
No one sings alone
I am your echo
And you are mine 
We dance 
Step-less
As dreams of wonderment 
Exploding and imploding 
Greater than infinite 
Closer than intimate
Yet no song can touch it’s shadow

Afterimages with no source
Resonate these heart strings
No one plucked or stroked them
We are the music 
The chorus 
Of one of two of many 
Of none 


Moonlight floats on the surface
Peers into its reflection 
Thoughts are echoes 
In a dream 
of a dream 
of a dream

I don’t want your naked heart
I don’t need to see it or hear of it 
I know it always
as it is not yours or mine
Raw naked unadorned 
We dance as silvery moonlight
On the beach of no tomorrow 

No one resides within this dream 
Or swims down this river of thought
Of love 
Of blood
Pouring down the streets
Floodlight of shadows
Dance with their reflections
Night swallows darkness
Pouring light into a paper cup
Words adorn the edges
That no one can read
Somehow our lips mouth the words 
As we all drink deeply
We are this unquenchable thirst 

Written in between never and forever
The middle collapses
Notes slide off the staves
Pages dissolve into music
Words condense into breath
Into sound 
Into silence
Endless seas of echoes 
Of echoes 
Of echoes 
Of echoes 
Bathed in moonlight’s gaze
Shimmering without time or place
Eternity slid down the rainbow 
And drowned in my tears
Tomorrow has no pockets
No place to hide itself
No promises to fulfill 
Hope lost her dance card 
And took the last train 
To an imaginary place called home 

The past is memory flowing 
No one stands on the banks
Gazing at her reflection 
I am just an echo
Dissolving into itself...


Popping up on newsfeed often is a reminder of how long I’ve been friends with someone 
And it always seems weird 
I can never remember not loving that person!
As there is no longer the belief or a feeling of an unchanging thing or self..
I am simply not even nothing 
The flowing ever emerging momentary...
Edgeless 
Seamless 
Beautiful 
Love




Singing nakedly 
Unabashedly
This love that sings me
Breathes oceans and clouds and endless skies
Words are love's heartbeat
You can hear them echo-locate
An imaginary center
Around which all and everything swirl

There is no one to animate 
This illusion of love 
Wind soars through wind
Not even breath remains 

Through the lens of this and that 
There is no one looking
No one to know or not
Simply this sublime beauty of unknowing 

Cricket song floats 
In ocean of moon
Darkness breathes 
The song of midnight
Suspended as love in love
I am the caress of night
Falling through the hush
Of yesterday’s golden sunset
Bathing in this sublime emptiness  
Of no tomorrow  

Pirouette of sky spins into endless skies blossoming
Weaving and unweaving shadows of lace
Sky needs no scaffold nor ropes upon which to hang
No pattern nor dance steps are written 
For the filigree of tree tops
To sway gently with the song of moon
Bathing the garden in the flowing carpet of light and shadow
Revealing the passion play
Of love kissing itself
From the inside out
Through our lips 
Life sings itself

Beneath autumn leaves
The scent of yesterday
Hides 
From shadows 
And light 
It is only a daydream 
Buried in the night
Where no one slumbers
Or dreams of edgeless skies


my lips move 
in this river of breath
what cannot be said seems to soar through the imaginary gap of silence and sound
trembles on the edge of the known and the imagined
blends them into this very kiss
that tastes the winged flames of desire
and melts my mouth with my own sensuousness
it is love without names
it is love without number
it is love beyond the reach of words
or song
singing itself through my lips
that have been eviscerated of all words
love has plummeted through all ideas of love 
I am consumed by the longing to sing of love
to all lovers
to all I have ever loved
and will love
and it is you
to whom I sing
and this singing
kisses us both 
into being
for what are we but this lover's dance
falling into the abyss of love

No comments:

Post a Comment