Swooning into you I swoon into myself
I was the longing to swallow love and be swallowed by love
Now all there is is this intoxication
In love as love through love
soaring through the tides of moon
bathed in cloud light
shadows racing below
and above
we fly without splitting the sky
sky has never been fractured into blue and clouds
stars do not pierce it
it is all light
we love without splitting love
love has never been split into you and me
sorrow and tears do not dissolve it
it is all love
all is dissolved in a searing brightness
an all encompassing brilliance
you can hear her voice
beckoning
she only wants all of you
your skin your blood your heart
your deepest secrets that even you don't know
nothing escapes love's kiss
there is nothing to leave behind
there is no behind
nor forward
love gathers all and everything
light and dark
and even herself
into her beautiful arms
a pirouette of dreams
weaves itself
as it unravels
trails of memory seem to paint a journey to love
or away from it
but they are the echoes of a bird in flight
they cannot lasso sky
in this unravelling of all your hopes and fears
there is nothing underneath your shadow
and nothing to hold the light
you find there is nothing that you are
and nothing that you are not
there are no things
not even love
yet you hear your own voice calling you back into the dream
welcome home
I love you
we exist only in the touching
and we can never touch
we are imagined beings
isolated galaxies of thought
dancing in our own music
our own light
we have no actual substance
love is the dream in which we dance
it is only in this love that we seem to appear
we are reflections of each others love light
I have no existence without you
I love you
I am you
echoes soar down main street
stripped of all their overtones and undertones
they have no place to land
nakedness has no anchor
or sails
winds of love rip sky into mirrored shards
you see your face in every one
razors of love
slash all ideas of light
eviscerate your hidden dreams
your portrait painted with hope and fear melts
into an infinite ocean of reflections
love tears open the dream
into a rawness without time
or movement
or even the impermanency you feared
all measurement is painted with thought
the dream of edges
seemed to have a center
and a door
to another side
but there are no walls
other than your imaginary prison
there are no sides to the mirror
all is liquid transparency
and here we are bathing in the day dream of love
knowing it is a dream
is the dream
not knowing you are dreamt
is the dream
how can I not love you
there is no one
nor two
we are the spinning of echoes
blooming
and drowning in the back beat of moon
Awakening is far far more intimate than a lovers kiss ...nothing like listening to a talk or an armchair discussion
It is an armegedon of you and your world
poems are words stretching their skin into light
dancing
on a canyon stream
red and orange and golden leaves whirl-pool along the banks
wind brushes the surface of the word wind
and wings slide through the tree tops
as light and shadow flow through us
languorous ripples slide across the sandy bottom
we are reflections of the fullness and emptiness of water
painting beauty into rivers
flowing into oceans of thought
words are echoes of transparency flowing through itself
we are the beauty
that sings us
we are the color of words
tasting their own echoes as they leave our mouths
basking in their own warmth
they flow through our mind streams
our hearts are bathed in love's glow
we are the eyes of love
we are the light of the world
everywhere we look the universe appears
there is not even nothing without thought
without us there is no light nor colors dancing
no river no sea no unfathomable depths
no cloudless mornings beckoning
no towering mountains or low slung hills
no pathless desert
no mirage
no sun nor warmth nor beauty
nor love
these tears have no name nor number no source nor destination...
they are un-owned… how wondrous this intimacy that has no boundary nor center... such unbearable beauty at not knowing nor longing to know to capture to kiss this unexplainable majesty that seems to appear all by itself and simultaneously disappear...
a kiss falling through itself neither beginning nor ending ...an atemporal love song singing all and everything shaded with overtones of a beautiful melancholy.... of love of wonder of nothing at all.... infinitely deeply raw and intimate when the lines between here and there are seen through... when backwards turns inside out and forward has no meaning nor non meaning... directionless... without movement or non movement....
there is nothing that I am and nothing that I am not... there are no things...
golden finches in the morning swarm on the feeders... the canyon breathes... all is a love song caressing me from the inside and out... breathing me singing me into a wonderland of love...
yes it is impersonal as there is no person... but an imaginary dancer twirls down the canyon with you... laughing and weeping deeply at the love the loss the utter devastating emptiness that consumed the dream of separation and ...yet.... somehow... my husband sleeps and I will never know his dreams.... or thoughts... or how he feels... or what the color red looks like to him... or how the wind feels on his face when we walk in the canyon...
only through sharing these stories that we are is there a seeming touching... of distant whirling galaxies... reaching... arms of starlight... light falling though light... all is light.... all is love ...even the loss of love...
such unutterable beauty that we are these stories that we share... arising only in each others eyes... and so the story goes... writing itself....
I would never say there is a thing called oneness or god or source appearing as thingness or even emptiness appearing as fullness
it is only with or through imaginary separation that there is a recognition of unicity... and an aware-ing aware of aware-ing... and we are the lens of imaginary separation.... of course all this is story.. it is all story... illusion is illusion...
it is ALL description and there is not even nothing underneath it... we assume there is a physical world yet it is only 'knowable' through concepts through thought.... thought is a concept created by thought.... and on and on the circle spins and it may seem like there is a center to the thought dream and that it is going somewhere or came from some place. or thing... but that it simply the thought dream weaving a universe with space and time and a unique figure dancing through a life...
the dream of enlightenment is a profound shift in perspective... it is apparently a rewiring of the brain... and it becomes obvious always that there are no things or non things nor selves nor others, nor time nor events nor measurement... yet simultaneously inseparably there is this dream of separation...
and it feels like love somehow... after the conflagration when even love burns itself
I would never say there's a thing called oneness or god or source appearing as thingness or even emptiness appearing as fullness
It's only with or through imaginary separation that there's a recognition of unicity and an aware-ing aware of aware-ing and we're the lens of imaginary separation, of course, all this is story, it is all story, illusion is illusion
It's ALL description and there's not even nothing underneath it. We assume there's a physical world, yet it's only 'knowable' through concepts through thought, thought is a concept created by thought. On and on the circle spins and it may seem like there's a center to the thought dream and that it's going somewhere or came from some place or thing but that's simply the thought dream weaving a universe with space and time and a unique figure dancing through a life
The dream of enlightenment is a profound shift in perspective, it's apparently a rewiring of the brain and it becomes obvious always that there are no things or non things nor selves nor others nor time nor events nor measurement, yet simultaneously inseparably, there's this dream of separation
And it feels like love somehow after the conflagration even love burns itself.
tears paint my story and evaporate into diaphanous rainbows
my colors soar through infinite shades of sorrow and joy
there is no where to land
and no destination when no one is wandering looking for love's treasure
it is all love
there is no end or beginning to this song of rainbows
I am an echo's dream
love skims the dreamscape
erasing all shadow and light
long long ago I was seeking the source of color
ripples shimmered through my reflection
earth and sky fall through each other
as I faded into clear waters
time kissed my face one last time
it was love
saying hello
goodbye
hello
wind sails through itself
and evaporates into her own echo
I am a flowing water color dream
pouring into into this river of song
oceans of light bloom
from above and below and in-between
petals of starlight
fall
softly
into pools of words where hummingbirds drink
and we are intoxicated with our own colors
rainbows explode
through us
in us
as us
love is the dancing
of our eyes
pouring light into the dream
we are reflections of stars
a prism of tears
through us
love falls in love with herself
kisses herself
through our lips
breathing echos into a river of song
this miraculous thought dream
this worded world is the only place where love and beauty live
...takes your breath away
don't it?
river of night has no end
nor beginning
moon and stars reflect the unfathomable vastness of unknowing
lying on still waters
breathing
sky
This will never be clear as enlightenment is quite beyond understanding or belief. The seeker is the looking for clarity for solidity for certitude, and there is none. There is no actual knowing or understanding. There is no one separate from what’s going on to know it or capture it. All we can ‘know’ are concepts, and all ideas refer to other ideas...
...all words refer to other words.
There is no actual definition, no 'knowing' in the true sense as there are no objects under the words and no hands to grasp them.
The thought dream is flowing description seemingly weaving a web, painting a world of this and that and a you somewhere in the middle, and time and space and all distinction and measurement, but middle and edges and ideas and words and thought ...are thought.... there is no solidity nor fluidity.
There are no things to be moving nor permanent...
No one to rest
....no place to rest...
No one to understand and no things to arrange into some kind of understanding....
All is illusion...
Illusion is illusion.
Actually you are just what you think you are
As you ARE thought
I was the longing to swallow love and be swallowed by love
Now all there is is this intoxication
In love as love through love
soaring through the tides of moon
bathed in cloud light
shadows racing below
and above
we fly without splitting the sky
sky has never been fractured into blue and clouds
stars do not pierce it
it is all light
we love without splitting love
love has never been split into you and me
sorrow and tears do not dissolve it
it is all love
all is dissolved in a searing brightness
an all encompassing brilliance
you can hear her voice
beckoning
she only wants all of you
your skin your blood your heart
your deepest secrets that even you don't know
nothing escapes love's kiss
there is nothing to leave behind
there is no behind
nor forward
love gathers all and everything
light and dark
and even herself
into her beautiful arms
a pirouette of dreams
weaves itself
as it unravels
trails of memory seem to paint a journey to love
or away from it
but they are the echoes of a bird in flight
they cannot lasso sky
in this unravelling of all your hopes and fears
there is nothing underneath your shadow
and nothing to hold the light
you find there is nothing that you are
and nothing that you are not
there are no things
not even love
yet you hear your own voice calling you back into the dream
welcome home
I love you
we exist only in the touching
and we can never touch
we are imagined beings
isolated galaxies of thought
dancing in our own music
our own light
we have no actual substance
love is the dream in which we dance
it is only in this love that we seem to appear
we are reflections of each others love light
I have no existence without you
I love you
I am you
echoes soar down main street
stripped of all their overtones and undertones
they have no place to land
nakedness has no anchor
or sails
winds of love rip sky into mirrored shards
you see your face in every one
razors of love
slash all ideas of light
eviscerate your hidden dreams
your portrait painted with hope and fear melts
into an infinite ocean of reflections
love tears open the dream
into a rawness without time
or movement
or even the impermanency you feared
all measurement is painted with thought
the dream of edges
seemed to have a center
and a door
to another side
but there are no walls
other than your imaginary prison
there are no sides to the mirror
all is liquid transparency
and here we are bathing in the day dream of love
knowing it is a dream
is the dream
not knowing you are dreamt
is the dream
how can I not love you
there is no one
nor two
we are the spinning of echoes
blooming
and drowning in the back beat of moon
Awakening is far far more intimate than a lovers kiss ...nothing like listening to a talk or an armchair discussion
It is an armegedon of you and your world
poems are words stretching their skin into light
dancing
on a canyon stream
red and orange and golden leaves whirl-pool along the banks
wind brushes the surface of the word wind
and wings slide through the tree tops
as light and shadow flow through us
languorous ripples slide across the sandy bottom
we are reflections of the fullness and emptiness of water
painting beauty into rivers
flowing into oceans of thought
words are echoes of transparency flowing through itself
we are the beauty
that sings us
we are the color of words
tasting their own echoes as they leave our mouths
basking in their own warmth
they flow through our mind streams
our hearts are bathed in love's glow
we are the eyes of love
we are the light of the world
everywhere we look the universe appears
there is not even nothing without thought
without us there is no light nor colors dancing
no river no sea no unfathomable depths
no cloudless mornings beckoning
no towering mountains or low slung hills
no pathless desert
no mirage
no sun nor warmth nor beauty
nor love
these tears have no name nor number no source nor destination...
they are un-owned… how wondrous this intimacy that has no boundary nor center... such unbearable beauty at not knowing nor longing to know to capture to kiss this unexplainable majesty that seems to appear all by itself and simultaneously disappear...
a kiss falling through itself neither beginning nor ending ...an atemporal love song singing all and everything shaded with overtones of a beautiful melancholy.... of love of wonder of nothing at all.... infinitely deeply raw and intimate when the lines between here and there are seen through... when backwards turns inside out and forward has no meaning nor non meaning... directionless... without movement or non movement....
there is nothing that I am and nothing that I am not... there are no things...
golden finches in the morning swarm on the feeders... the canyon breathes... all is a love song caressing me from the inside and out... breathing me singing me into a wonderland of love...
yes it is impersonal as there is no person... but an imaginary dancer twirls down the canyon with you... laughing and weeping deeply at the love the loss the utter devastating emptiness that consumed the dream of separation and ...yet.... somehow... my husband sleeps and I will never know his dreams.... or thoughts... or how he feels... or what the color red looks like to him... or how the wind feels on his face when we walk in the canyon...
only through sharing these stories that we are is there a seeming touching... of distant whirling galaxies... reaching... arms of starlight... light falling though light... all is light.... all is love ...even the loss of love...
such unutterable beauty that we are these stories that we share... arising only in each others eyes... and so the story goes... writing itself....
I would never say there is a thing called oneness or god or source appearing as thingness or even emptiness appearing as fullness
it is only with or through imaginary separation that there is a recognition of unicity... and an aware-ing aware of aware-ing... and we are the lens of imaginary separation.... of course all this is story.. it is all story... illusion is illusion...
it is ALL description and there is not even nothing underneath it... we assume there is a physical world yet it is only 'knowable' through concepts through thought.... thought is a concept created by thought.... and on and on the circle spins and it may seem like there is a center to the thought dream and that it is going somewhere or came from some place. or thing... but that it simply the thought dream weaving a universe with space and time and a unique figure dancing through a life...
the dream of enlightenment is a profound shift in perspective... it is apparently a rewiring of the brain... and it becomes obvious always that there are no things or non things nor selves nor others, nor time nor events nor measurement... yet simultaneously inseparably there is this dream of separation...
and it feels like love somehow... after the conflagration when even love burns itself
I would never say there's a thing called oneness or god or source appearing as thingness or even emptiness appearing as fullness
It's only with or through imaginary separation that there's a recognition of unicity and an aware-ing aware of aware-ing and we're the lens of imaginary separation, of course, all this is story, it is all story, illusion is illusion
It's ALL description and there's not even nothing underneath it. We assume there's a physical world, yet it's only 'knowable' through concepts through thought, thought is a concept created by thought. On and on the circle spins and it may seem like there's a center to the thought dream and that it's going somewhere or came from some place or thing but that's simply the thought dream weaving a universe with space and time and a unique figure dancing through a life
The dream of enlightenment is a profound shift in perspective, it's apparently a rewiring of the brain and it becomes obvious always that there are no things or non things nor selves nor others nor time nor events nor measurement, yet simultaneously inseparably, there's this dream of separation
And it feels like love somehow after the conflagration even love burns itself.
tears paint my story and evaporate into diaphanous rainbows
my colors soar through infinite shades of sorrow and joy
there is no where to land
and no destination when no one is wandering looking for love's treasure
it is all love
there is no end or beginning to this song of rainbows
I am an echo's dream
love skims the dreamscape
erasing all shadow and light
long long ago I was seeking the source of color
ripples shimmered through my reflection
earth and sky fall through each other
as I faded into clear waters
time kissed my face one last time
it was love
saying hello
goodbye
hello
wind sails through itself
and evaporates into her own echo
I am a flowing water color dream
pouring into into this river of song
oceans of light bloom
from above and below and in-between
petals of starlight
fall
softly
into pools of words where hummingbirds drink
and we are intoxicated with our own colors
rainbows explode
through us
in us
as us
love is the dancing
of our eyes
pouring light into the dream
we are reflections of stars
a prism of tears
through us
love falls in love with herself
kisses herself
through our lips
breathing echos into a river of song
this miraculous thought dream
this worded world is the only place where love and beauty live
...takes your breath away
don't it?
river of night has no end
nor beginning
moon and stars reflect the unfathomable vastness of unknowing
lying on still waters
breathing
sky
This will never be clear as enlightenment is quite beyond understanding or belief. The seeker is the looking for clarity for solidity for certitude, and there is none. There is no actual knowing or understanding. There is no one separate from what’s going on to know it or capture it. All we can ‘know’ are concepts, and all ideas refer to other ideas...
...all words refer to other words.
There is no actual definition, no 'knowing' in the true sense as there are no objects under the words and no hands to grasp them.
The thought dream is flowing description seemingly weaving a web, painting a world of this and that and a you somewhere in the middle, and time and space and all distinction and measurement, but middle and edges and ideas and words and thought ...are thought.... there is no solidity nor fluidity.
There are no things to be moving nor permanent...
No one to rest
....no place to rest...
No one to understand and no things to arrange into some kind of understanding....
All is illusion...
Illusion is illusion.
Actually you are just what you think you are
As you ARE thought
river of night has no end
nor beginning
moon and stars reflect the unfathomable vastness of unknowing
lying on still waters
breathing
sky
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
No comments:
Post a Comment