I Am This Nakedness

I stood on the banks of no tomorrow
Infinite reflections slid through my eyes
A mirror has no sides on this wake-less sea
Not even sound
Not even silence

A magnificent bird unfurled it’s wings inside my heart and sailed through its shadow

I never found it
Or lost it
The tides sing its unspeakable name
They called me back into the dream
It sounds like love
Like sorrow
Like nothing at all



Canyon winds
Strewn with sky
Brushed her path
With blues and purples

Liquid filagree
Star shadows
Painted her feet
No one walked
Or stood still
As this silence

No one wore
This sublime nakedness
Steeped in light
Subsumed with radiance
Saturated with this fire
That burns even its own brilliance

Simply this breath
This breeze
This thought
This feeling
This sensation
Without beginning or end
This all encompassing
Hush
Consumes itself

Just like this
Life has no edges
Cannot be caught or measured
Or owned
The hand that tries to grasp it
Is it 

Awakening is the greatest emptiness
And the ultimate intimacy
Line less being
No one loses
Everything
And nothing

We were the lines that danced
Intertwining into patterns of love
We remain as these imaginary lines
That seem to create spaces in-between us
As we twirl down the Grand Canyon of love
Falling into and through each other

Echoes blossom and swirl
Wind paints plum blossom trails
Your footfalls need not follow
No path led us here
No one arrived
To this dance we have always been
This edgeless momentary
Has no location or time 

Seekers are trying to find the peace before or under thought, but this peace or silence is inseparable from thought and indeed all perception.  It is the recognition that thought never actually divides what is going on.  This deep silence is felt always, this knowing feeling of unicity, and as imaginary separation is created by thought, which includes you and mountains and moments, it’s recognition can be frightening.

The seeker is like an imaginary piece of sky trying to glue all the pieces together.  Every shard hurts.  Yet there are no separate pieces of sky.  Nothing the seeker can do or not do to arrive at this peace as it is either recognized or not.  It need not nor can not be brought about anew.



Weaving and unweaving itself, life is lived in the heart of these beautiful fringes where this and that are never separate yet dance so effortlessly in the wind.
Oceans and sky and life flow through me as me, these words that I cannot drink, yet paint me and swallow me, I am this empty poem that has drowned in a river of song.

Tattered water color dreams swirl and no longer have any push or pull on the moon or tides, or on these footfalls that no one takes. They dance a love song where I find this breath that sings me, sings you, sings a passion play of love and beauty and wonder.

Constant thought of remembered past and imagined future keep the dream of a person on a timeline between birth and death alive.
When thought is no longer believed and separation is no longer felt, it’s like time dies.

Yet here we are living and loving, with no hope and fear and need of a never arising next.




Always simply this scintillating aliveness that you are, awareness aware of being aware, through this symphony of perception and its inseparable recognition.  All encompassing, obvious, the big wow that you are has no edges.  It is only in trying to grasp this magic, to arrive at what you are, that seems to push it away.  Trying to gather the ripples in a pond is the rippling.

Whatever life looks or feels like, early morning bird song, words appearing on my screen, the softness of my cats fur, the refrigerator hum, thoughts of last night, of cooking breakfast, of calling an old friend, the warmth of my teacup in my hands, these words can never capture this infinite symphony of which my thought stream can only seem to lasso a bit of.  Thought seems to isolate these bites of morning, to slice this into separate things and events.

Why cannot you see this seamless flow of which I sing and sing and sing, this inseparable unitary streaming?  You know this deeply, this fluidity of life, that it is ungraspable, that there are no solid and fixed ‘things’, that there are no separate moments or events, but it is frightening.

There may be a longing as well to ‘let go’, but who would let go of what? Are there any things to let go of?  Is there a you in charge of all this?  A chooser of thought and feeling?  Of what happens in this life?  Did you choose your life, every thought feeling every perception?  When did you decide to choose to choose?  Can you choose to not feel like a chooser? Can you choose to not feel separate from what’s going on?

Utterly spontaneously this symphony of perception and its inseparable recognition flows without anything needing to be done. Evenly and equally, it flows. Without any effort or non effort there is awareness aware of being aware.

That’s all there is to it. All separation is made up.  You know that. But if it’s seen clearly that would mean that you don’t get this.  There is no one to win a prize.

Yet there is a sublime emptiness that subsumes the passion play that is no longer your life.




As beliefs begin to be seen through you feel lighter and lighter.  You imagine that this feeling of freedom of lightness is the goal...

the end of belief in self can be realized somehow without the end of belief in thingness....

Both are unimaginable!

When they both go is the end of the belief and the feeling of separation.  All thingness is realized and felt to be essentially empty.

Wow

Life feels like a seamless edgeless flowing.  It is like a heavy load dropping to the ground, felt physically and psychologically.  It never again feels like life or thought or feeling is happening to a someone or that a someone is doing life.

But that feeling of sublime emptiness is inseparable from the passion play that continues much as before.

Still there is weeping laughing loving, all infused with a most marvelous sense of awe.


Super Saturated with sublime okayness and awe
No matter what it looks and feels like
More amazing than I could have ever believed
This seamless ease
This sublime unknowing
This utter rest

Most seekers
Or all
Are looking for a way out of the thoughts and feelings they have learned are afflictive

They don’t want to hear that we remain beautifully human
They imagine themselves in a future where they are unaffected by life
...Kinda like being dead




My flying carpet unraveled into sky
Tattered dreams of who I thought I was
And who I longed to be
Collided into the horizon between forever and never
As it no longer could separate sky and sea
Or you and me

No one fell into clouds of confusion
Or the sea of unknowing
Where empty bottles washed ashore
Containing no secret message
As the words had fallen apart
There was no one to know
Or not know
Or to look for her reflection
And fall into
fathomless depths

No one wandered along endless beaches
Between the vacuum of empty shadows
And the vastness where not even light
Or darkness lived



I am this nakedness no one wears
Yet most are trying to hide...