Monday, February 5, 2018

Empty Pages in the Wind


Shadow seeks light 
Breath seeks song 
Blood seeks fire 
Love seeks release 

Empty cage 
Empty heart 
Empty pages 
In the wind 


She no longer looked for her heart 
On the broken streets 
In the empty town 
In the vast desert 
In the fathomless sea

On the lonely sands of night 
beaches of stars 
Wave on the shore less ocean  

empty sky weeps 
Weaves her mirrored raiment of moon glow 
Reflecting echoes that have no source 
Her eyes illuminate the sun 


Silent songs have no words yet we remember them just the same 

We are love’s memories 
They are our clothing 
Wrapped in nothing, 
nothing under the wrapper
Just this raw nakedness that no one wears

There was never a never or forever to put in your pocket 
Or your empty heart
Falling into and through your reflection bursts the other side of the mirror 

there are no sides to a reflection 

Only a sideways glance reveals that the river has no sides 
it’s silent song is heard after the dam of affliction breaks open and you drown in your own blood 
Your own tears
Your own love



Empty candy wrappers 
Wind flowers on the beach 
Dance with their shadows
Kiss their reflection in the wet sands 

Dance is its movement 
As wind 
As mind 
As life 
A fluid dreamscape 
Of light and shadow 
Reaching out to taste itself 
Through your lips your tongue your beautiful eyes 



She wandered into the empty temple and found her hand print on the wall. 
Reaching out to touch she fell through the wall of no tomorrow. 

Sliding daydreams 
Windows on the sea 

No safe harbor 
No one to land 
No one to seek 
No where to search 
For that which does not exist 

Mirrors broken 
Shards of sky 
Pierced their own reflection 
Love bled into itself



Unclothed of nothing at all 
She discovered she was this nakedness 
That no one wore 

No hangers 
No closet 
No room 
She had no home 
Not even emptiness 
That no one lost or found 
Only a shadow 
Drifting across the threshold 
Between love 
And nothing at all 



Sitting by the side of the road waiting for yourself to return... you realize that you and all you have ever loved are beautiful thought dreams sailing through each other, and it is sublimely bittersweet.  

Love sailed away in her warm summer jacket.  
Sea chewed her up and spit her out 
as she swallowed the stars. 



Love is life is love intertwined 
never not one or two 
Or none
This all encompassing embrace 
without edge or center 
caresses fills empties 
Ravishes
A vacant heart 
That was filled with wishes 
And become unbound 
Un-owned
Un-known 
Felt fully 
This beautiful ache 
These wondrous tears 
These eyes that see their beautiful reflection 
In this scintillating dance 
waves crashing, sliding on the beach 
receding into their own wetness 


A love without tomorrow
Has no words
Unheard
Unsung
The love in love 

The taste of taste 
On your lips your mouth your tongue 

Light in light 
Flows through you as you 

Your eyes illuminate beauty 
Love 
And the sun itself 



This kiss of one of two of many of none sears you beyond recognition.  Deeper than a lovers kiss or a broken heart, or the knowing that no one remembers you as a child, that all you have ever loved or will are ephemeral thought dreams like you.

There is no self.
There is no other. 

This utter edgeless vastness without space or time or dimension or emptiness sucks you inside out and outside in simultaneously, and all that’s left is the awe and joy of simply being. 



Life’s ecstasy sings you as it’s utter perfection.  Streaming through you as you is this very thought dream that paints reds and golds and brilliant yellows and sunsets.  Flowing cloud castles forming and dissolving that no one ever lived in, and vast deserts and seas that cannot hold a footprint or a tear.  

The illusion of a world and a someone who is lonely, who longs for a never arising tomorrow, who wishes upon a falling star to hear the song of the universe, is the universe singing you. 

You remember this song but you cannot find it.  It is ancient it is ever arising it is never heard never not heard, it is a silence that shakes the illusion apart and brings it together into a sonic boom of never ending always ending never unsung awe. 


Ocean falls into ocean 
Wet in wet 

Inside the inside 
Light in light 

Outside the outside 
No sides 
Space in space 

He fell into his own reflection. 
Empty of emptiness. 
Slipped inside his own echo. 
Deafening sound of no sound. 
Falling through the falling 
Dissolved of a need to land 
No feet to fill these footprints 
No echo will fill what has no edge.

No wet
No light 
No space 
Not even nothing 
But this song 
From everywhere 
From nowhere 
Fading as it emerges 
A distant memory 
A butterfly kiss 

Never was a never 
Or a forever 
Or a now 



In this current without edges there are no reflections 
Simply liquidity.  
All encompassing edgeless unowned love.  It’s all flowing reflections through the mindstream that you are.

Imaginary edges mirror glimpses of beingness reflecting in your beautiful beautiful eyes, singing these very words that seem to capture light.

Impossible to capture with the razor of thought 
Yet I love the song 
I am it



There is no way to sing of or convey this utterly obvious seamlessness.  Yet I sing and sing and my words are tossed into the sea of knowing and may toss the seeker into a sea of unknowing. 


I have never heard of enlightenment being a walk in the park 
Yet the free glimpses are. 
After the ocean has called your name 
You can never forget it 
And the longing to drown may outweigh the fear 


The cage was always empty 
She was the trying to escape 

Looking for freedom 
Was her cage



The seeker is the seeking to end the pain of imaginary separation.  All looking for escape paints the imaginary lines darker and darker 
Seemingly obscuring the light


No matter how many books you read 
No matter how many hugs you receive 
No matter how many places you visit 
Or look 
For something to fill that great gaping hole in your chest 
That ravishing emptiness you feel 
can never be filled 
Some place holders may work for awhile to assuage that longing or permanency.  True self, god, source, awareness, consciousness, mystery,  ...even emptiness is a place holder but you cannot hang your heart there.  The world is, and you are a slippery slidey thought dream.  


You may reach a point where you realize that yer Fucked, that nothing has ever worked, and the entire house of cards may begin to crumble. 








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