Walking through sky reflection
Sky slides through no sky
No contradiction
Not an empty song
Nor full
A child left his empty bucket on the beach
Was it very long ago
time fell into itself
And sky swallowed you
On a distant shore
beyond the horizon
Waiting for your self to return
Silence sings
Waves have erased your footsteps
And the stars
No dots to connect into familiar patterns
The path has collapsed
No safe harbor can be found
The very ground is moving
Like water
Time forgot to say goodbye
There is no retreat this time
This is not a glimpse
The war is over
This ocean of your tears
Your face
Is so stunningly beautiful
I can tell you I love you
But you will find nothing there
Just the wind
And sky
And an overwhelming vastness
No
The tears don’t stop
They have no name now
They never did
I am not here
To paint a smile on the moon
Or fill your empty heart
I am a mirror
To show you love’s devastatingly beautiful reflection and the utter emptiness you long for and fear
Drawer of dreams
unopened curtains
Sunlight slides down your face
Cast shadows
Pool in your footfalls
Where echoes bloom
Stillness ripples across
the sounds of yesterday
Pirouetting into itself
Today sings
Melody and words
Burnt as they appear
Ashes of moonlight
You feel alone
Because you are.
You feel disconnected
But are not separate from the feeling.
You long for highs
You are the longing
Life’s longing
Only humans long for ideas like tomorrow or enlightenment...
the feeling of aliveness is apparent through all the symphony of perception and its simultaneous recognition.
Self walks on a tight rope a timeline between birth and death, if there is no one walking there could be no one to fall.
Fleeting reflection of sky in sky
nothing is held
Not even the clouds
Or beauty
Words are transparent slideshows
They cannot lasso a piece of sky
They cannot see themselves
Or their echo
Afterimages dance in a mirror
It melts into its own reflection
Knots untie themselves
Ropes dissolve
yet the sky does not fall
Into an empty pocket
Of moon
You are the looking for certitude. For something called reality or peace or truth. But deep down you know that life is fluid and edgeless and there is no place to land, Nothing to hang on to in this hurricane. You may see your world of imagined truth and reality be blown away like a house in a storm. The roof the walls the linoleum gets ripped off the floors, even the concrete foundation crumbles, and the very ground it was built upon collapses. Like cloud castles in the wind, like sandcastles in the incoming tide. The very feet that seemed to wander the shores searching a safe harbor will be swallowed by their own footprints.
All ideas of this and that will be known to be made up, self a flowing mental description, a flowing thought dream painting the only world you can ever know, and you. A beautiful beautiful imaginary center of the dream around which the rest of the dream swirls.
This catastrophe is called enlightenment, and it is not a walk in the park. It’s not an understanding as how could an edgeless centerless non thing be grasped with the razor of thought?
It’s a toppling of the need to grasp what cannot be grasped. And a delicious awe and joy of life simply appearing as it does.
What is joy
What is sorrow
What is the hush in the garden
Moonlight reveals
Wrapped under winter’s fallen footsteps
Lies an ache that has no name
No word is minuscule enough
Or big enough
To kiss her beauty
Love need not seek her shadow
Its in the ember of song that has burned in your heart ever since you can remember
Without your eyes she cannot weep
Without your tongue she cannot sing
Without you
She is not
Awakening is more intimate than your eyes your skin your lips your tongue your heart you’re gut... it’s all belief being eviscerated including the illusion that there is someone who has belief...
Like yesterdays sunset when you danced with your shadow on the cliffs until you lay down exhausted and awoke to a dream of dreaming you were awake.
In a movie and watching it at the same time... knowing it is beautiful illusion yet as real as it will ever get. Realer than real somehow... feeling deeply yet no one is feeling, tears happening to no one.
I don’t say that’s it’s all a dream so pretend it’s ok. I say all separation is a mental fabrication. All this and that and you and me and love are made up. Knowing that is not the end of love.
I am not trying to convince you as enlightenment is not a belief or understanding or philosophy or set of rules to live by. It’s an earthquake a tsunami a catastrophe in which ALL you had believed to be true about yourself and the world including all ideas like truth and meaning and all ideas about what enlightenment is are ripped to shreds.
There is a profound shift in perspective that is felt physically and psychologically when it’s realized that life does itself and has no separate parts or moments or time.
This shift is uncaused and does not happen to the person. It occurs in the brain.
As you are an imaginary piece of sky lassoed by thought how could you possibly change the brain that thinks you?
Sky slides through no sky
No contradiction
Not an empty song
Nor full
A child left his empty bucket on the beach
Was it very long ago
time fell into itself
And sky swallowed you
On a distant shore
beyond the horizon
Waiting for your self to return
Silence sings
Waves have erased your footsteps
And the stars
No dots to connect into familiar patterns
The path has collapsed
No safe harbor can be found
The very ground is moving
Like water
Time forgot to say goodbye
There is no retreat this time
This is not a glimpse
The war is over
This ocean of your tears
Your face
Is so stunningly beautiful
I can tell you I love you
But you will find nothing there
Just the wind
And sky
And an overwhelming vastness
No
The tears don’t stop
They have no name now
They never did
I am not here
To paint a smile on the moon
Or fill your empty heart
I am a mirror
To show you love’s devastatingly beautiful reflection and the utter emptiness you long for and fear
Drawer of dreams
unopened curtains
Sunlight slides down your face
Cast shadows
Pool in your footfalls
Where echoes bloom
Stillness ripples across
the sounds of yesterday
Pirouetting into itself
Today sings
Melody and words
Burnt as they appear
Ashes of moonlight
You feel alone
Because you are.
You feel disconnected
But are not separate from the feeling.
You long for highs
You are the longing
Life’s longing
Only humans long for ideas like tomorrow or enlightenment...
the feeling of aliveness is apparent through all the symphony of perception and its simultaneous recognition.
Self walks on a tight rope a timeline between birth and death, if there is no one walking there could be no one to fall.
Fleeting reflection of sky in sky
nothing is held
Not even the clouds
Or beauty
Words are transparent slideshows
They cannot lasso a piece of sky
They cannot see themselves
Or their echo
Afterimages dance in a mirror
It melts into its own reflection
Knots untie themselves
Ropes dissolve
yet the sky does not fall
Into an empty pocket
Of moon
You are the looking for certitude. For something called reality or peace or truth. But deep down you know that life is fluid and edgeless and there is no place to land, Nothing to hang on to in this hurricane. You may see your world of imagined truth and reality be blown away like a house in a storm. The roof the walls the linoleum gets ripped off the floors, even the concrete foundation crumbles, and the very ground it was built upon collapses. Like cloud castles in the wind, like sandcastles in the incoming tide. The very feet that seemed to wander the shores searching a safe harbor will be swallowed by their own footprints.
All ideas of this and that will be known to be made up, self a flowing mental description, a flowing thought dream painting the only world you can ever know, and you. A beautiful beautiful imaginary center of the dream around which the rest of the dream swirls.
This catastrophe is called enlightenment, and it is not a walk in the park. It’s not an understanding as how could an edgeless centerless non thing be grasped with the razor of thought?
It’s a toppling of the need to grasp what cannot be grasped. And a delicious awe and joy of life simply appearing as it does.
What is joy
What is sorrow
What is the hush in the garden
Moonlight reveals
Wrapped under winter’s fallen footsteps
Lies an ache that has no name
No word is minuscule enough
Or big enough
To kiss her beauty
Love need not seek her shadow
Its in the ember of song that has burned in your heart ever since you can remember
Without your eyes she cannot weep
Without your tongue she cannot sing
Without you
She is not
Awakening is more intimate than your eyes your skin your lips your tongue your heart you’re gut... it’s all belief being eviscerated including the illusion that there is someone who has belief...
Like yesterdays sunset when you danced with your shadow on the cliffs until you lay down exhausted and awoke to a dream of dreaming you were awake.
In a movie and watching it at the same time... knowing it is beautiful illusion yet as real as it will ever get. Realer than real somehow... feeling deeply yet no one is feeling, tears happening to no one.
I don’t say that’s it’s all a dream so pretend it’s ok. I say all separation is a mental fabrication. All this and that and you and me and love are made up. Knowing that is not the end of love.
I am not trying to convince you as enlightenment is not a belief or understanding or philosophy or set of rules to live by. It’s an earthquake a tsunami a catastrophe in which ALL you had believed to be true about yourself and the world including all ideas like truth and meaning and all ideas about what enlightenment is are ripped to shreds.
There is a profound shift in perspective that is felt physically and psychologically when it’s realized that life does itself and has no separate parts or moments or time.
This shift is uncaused and does not happen to the person. It occurs in the brain.
As you are an imaginary piece of sky lassoed by thought how could you possibly change the brain that thinks you?
The thought stream is felt to be transparent. A paintbrush dipped in iridescent translucence washes a surreal light show of people and places and time
And love...
Flowing backward and forward into and through itself like the waves on a shore less sea washing away the very tides that sailed the moon into her shadow.
No borders are felt yet I exist only as imaginary lines. Between here and there, this and that, before and after, between the between and through sides and sideless-ness, sublime seamless ease pervades the dream.
Let us touch with our eyes so that I may weep at the beauty of touching.
Let me feel the wonder of tears
On my face
On your face
On the faces of many
On the faces of a few.
The heart songs of the ancients flow through these lips your lips our breath our hearts, it is only words that paint us and this primordial dance of love of sorrow of nothing at all.
Do not the stars fall through you on to the path no one walked, or are those your tears that paint this symphony of love? These tears that have no name nor number saturate the earth. Your feet fall through as the ground collapses and you soar as the wind, the music of love of sorrow of joy that lost their shadow and their name as it flows through you as you.
You are the wind dancing and the soft caress of sunlight rippling through the trees. Without any place to land on this shoreless ocean the vastness explodes and implodes in your heart. All your secret pockets have been turned inside out and there is no place to hide and no one left to run for cover in this all encompassing brilliance that has seared even the sun with its love.
Impossibly beautiful, this sadness that leaked into joy, these words that seem to sever the sky into clouds and mountains and deep deep canyons where the sun rarely sings, where only a breath of midnight ricochets it’s echo into the symphony.
This music of echoes of light and shadow, of infinite notes that were never separate, this song that has no melody or time plays itself across my mind screen. A wind ballet delicately shimmering across edgeless seas, I am enchanted by the song that I am, that you are, that we are. The tears never cease, although you may not see them. Heartbreakingly beautiful this life, where we seem to touch, knowing we never really can.
Simply a wondrous thought dream painting itself and erasing itself like the light in last night’s dream appearing in your skull. We hover in between what never happened and what never will. Thoughts of yesterday’s love and sorrow, of winter songs and springtime flowers wilting on the dashboard in the hot summer sun. How wondrous thoughts of a never arising next stream through the backbeat combing the sands into an hourglass of time. Yet you cannot find your shadow in the desert dream without the reflected light from another desert dancer.
Here I am. I love you. You are beautiful.
and his words flowed like liquid sunshine pouring through an empty prism and melting the coldest of hearts.....
.....and when the sigh of unknowing untrampled the grasses where love lay bleeding.....
the sun rose on her nakedness and a wind of perfection kissed her cheek where tears would never dry
Awakening is more intimate than your eyes your skin your lips your tongue your heart you’re gut... it’s all belief being eviscerated including the illusion that there is someone who has belief...
Like yesterdays sunset when you danced with your shadow on the cliffs until you lay down exhausted and awoke to a dream of dreaming you were awake.
In a movie and watching it at the same time... knowing it is beautiful illusion yet as real as it will ever get. Realer than real somehow... feeling deeply yet no one is feeling, tears happening to no one.
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