First Crow... Last Crow

one car on the distant road
headlights on the canyon wall
from where to where
can anyone travel?
memories sink into the slip stream of words
whirlpools of echoes swirl your reflection
eddies cannot hide this sublime melancholy
not lost
not found
dark in light
light in dark

moon left her shadow under the fallen leaves
deep in the garden
under evening's footsteps
where I lost the path
to midnight
this trail of words
follows itself
leaving only its shadow upon this page
dissolving in its own light
light a word
word a word
love a word

there was no one to lose
or set free
no one wandered
intoxicated with the evening falling
into its own shadow
naked trees adorned with moon glow
clouds swallowed the light
and the rain

brushing my hand across the water
never caught the morning
reflecting love's beauty
my eyes light the sun

I am a mirror
of cloud reflections
of love's kiss
upon the day



I don't know how belief in thought ends...
it is not belief in thought only, it is the belief in belief that ceases in the brain...
no one attaches or dis-attaches...
it feels like endless knots untying...
like the strings that held the sun and moon and you into place dissolving.....
like the inside and outside of a bubble merging... pierced by love's arrows....
the skin the teeth the eyes the blood the bone the marrow of your existence ripping apart...
the unravelling of endless fairy tales about who you are and what the world is like...
until there is not even nothing left
no reference points whatsoever
no things nor non things
no goal to reach
no path to tread
no ground to land on
no one to land...

yet you remain
the beautiful swirling iridescence
colors on a bubble
dividing an imaginary inside and outside
painting love and beauty into the dream
knowing you are the dream
makes it all the more wondrous

Knowing and feeling that there are no separate things or non-things or moments or events or selves or others 

or you or me or love 

simply feels like love

Unbound vast spaciousness swirling diving into it self 

kissed from the inside from the outside 

until all sides are dissolved

And love the best part of the dream 

in love as love through love 

my heart weeps

Such a sensuous lostness

no longer needing to be found 

and yet I catch a glimpse of my own beauty in your scintillating loving eyes

Reflections slide through reflections there never were any sides to the mirror nor a middle but there is a window

A barrier

A flowing net of words

As we are these imaginary lines we can never truly touch

How beautiful these tears that reflect the song of moon

Of love and love lost and love remembered

Weaving the fabric of our being....

There really are no words for this

But love seems to work just fine 

In this great battle

No one fights

Or wins

Or loses

Blood is spilt

Hearts are lost

Bones are burned under the midnight moon

And the wind blows the ashes

And the grasses grow

And the long stemmed flowers

Lanterns in the summer sun

Wave in the wind

Softly tearing the gentlest of hearts

This unsung beauty

That ripped all ideas of beauty

This love

That conquered all ideas of love

Has no words

Yet is all words

I did not win this kiss of wind

That blew my heart into the pyre

I did not climb the mountain

As it crumbled into the sea

The tsunami of love

Crushed all and everything

Even these hands that type these words

Are not mine

This life never had a name

Shall I speak of it

Without one

My mouth holds its vowels

Round and juicy

My breath my lips sing

I love you

I love you

I love you

Midnight rain
Autumn dawn

Through the window

The scent of fallen leaves

Vast 

Endless road is empty

No one wanders

All is home

Clad in autumn flowers

The scent no tomorrow

Cloud hewn

Sky

wind slides through wind

though this flesh

through these bones

through these words

that sing of wind

as wind sings me

heart beaten clouds

ravished by memory

dissolve into sky

rain tattered tears

flow into the sea scape

painted on the window

colors run through the gathering rainbow

falling gently though the canyon

through these eyes

though this heart

through this love

of all things

And love turns around and falls into and through its own empty arms 

Weeping

Love stretched out her hand... it was no longer an invitation ignored... there was no longer an option to run away from the giant hole in my heart... 

or join in the dance...

She grabbed me and flung me off the rocky cliffs into the vast sea below... just in time for the tsunami I had felt was coming my entire life...

I feared it and longed for it...

There was no going back
...there was no back...

The sound of weeping

…far far away 

and the feeling that tears were happening to a me

Got closer and closer until there was no distance

No here nor there 

Nor in between

Smiles and sorrows merged... the ghost that carried them dissolved

Hunger and fullness slid into each other into an ecstatic love dance where the stars in my eyes, in everyone’s eyes, and the lights in the midnight sky shimmer in this empty heart 

They are the tears of beauty and wonder reflecting on the evening tide...

No one wanders the empty beach through the dunes and depressions 

No one leaves these footprints that no longer go in circles 

Yet I watch my feet know exactly what to do.... and as I run with the wind 

I am the wind....

autumn clouds

morning hides

fallen petals

hold no color

naked stems bow

mirror memory

on the icy pond

I watch steam from my tea

take the shape of flowers

and dissolve into my reflection

in the window

what hides in this drop of dew

melting on the empty branch

what was never lost

cannot be found

strangely familiar

this song of mourning

the loss of everything

and nothing

that sings me

autumn rain

I cannot see your tears

wetness 

everywhere

And she danced with her shadow on the canyon walls...

In love with the light flowing in around and through her fingers.... her hands her arms her twirling body as she dissolved into sky...

In this dream within a dream within a dream there are endless reverberations of reflections of reflections of reflections...

echoes swirl into and through each other...

Lost and found in a sideways glance

Not forgotten nor remembered

only ever this dream....

Falling through itself

This wind ballet

Of wind in wind in wind

This love dance 

Pirouetting into itself

Calling and answering, answering and calling, there are no questions or answers...

Simply words strewn across the canyon like stars flowing across the river of sky...

There is nothing being reflected in these pools of ancient wonder, nor anyone in the canyon singing love songs and watching them dissolve into sky...

She is the kiss of madness, of memory, of sliding scales in atemporal rhythms, of afterimages of moon glow of sun glow of rippling water colors painted with star light on the shimmering dancing stream....

Transparency self releases into transparency and folds back into itself...

And no hands have ever held the moon

Yet its reflection shines in your eyes...

And no one has ever found or lost love

Or held it in the palm of her hand

It is apparent everywhere

And nowhere

In this vacancy of time and space and emptiness

Love sings and listens to your heartbeat

As it answers...

Like this 

Like this 

Like this....

river of song

river of tears

river of stars

across the night sky

through my shining shadow

dancing in a heartbeat

no space between my heart

and you

A stone in my heart 

...In my mouth 

So cold!

Love melts

hard consonants 

Trying to roll the vowels

With my tongue 

Into a sound 

That could not weep 

Aching for tears 

That would not stop....

Tears and their wetness were never separate...

Mountain springs and creeks trickling through wandering meadows...

Pouring into deep deep canyons aching for the sea...

the heart of the earth melts ice and rocks...

In the deepest darkest chasms

Love grows

hush before dawn

even the crickets sleep

young girl across the street

starts her car

pale cold moon

I watch my reflection in the window

light sparkling in the mirrored glass

caressing my face

and the softness of water

unhindered luminosity prevails

super saturating all and everything

there is only this precious indefinable momentary

indivisible, without edges or center

pure, clear, naturally self arising and self releasing

all perception and its inseparable recognition arise unfettered, ungraspable--- amazing!

love's natural radiance is primally clear and obvious at all times!

flawless stainless brilliance is inherent in all thought all sight sound taste touch sensation and feeling...

there are no mistakes nor anyone to make them

the intense lushness of this indivisible momentary sings itself

blooming and wilting without end or beginning

flowing without movement or non moment

this lustrous openness cannot be ignored

it is super complete in all appearances

and inseparable from them 

this wondrous aliveness is always on

open sky like vastness perfumes day and night

like sky in sky,

light in light

space in space,

love's gaze self illuminates all and everything

your face your tears your beautiful beautiful tenderness

precious beyond measure

all the riches of the world cannot compare to this wondrous treasure you seek

you cannot find it

nor not find it

you and it are not separate

feeling this aliveness

is it

love sees itself through your eyes

and weeps at its own beauty

Tears have no name nor number

Love sorrow joy awe...

I watch light sparkle and shadow dance and colors merge into rainbow astonishment 

around and through my hand as it reaches into sky...

Wind flows through me and I am the wind and this flowing carpet of dancing falling leaves swooshing into dramatic kisses with their shadows on the trail

That no one walks 

Not even empty foot prints 

No one wonders looking for a place to rest 

looking for a home

Home is infinite

Centerless...

And even infinity too small a word for seamless spaciousness adorned with colors and tears and smiles 

and love....

And I weep and it is beautiful 

Love and love lost....

Even though you may live 

Your death is a beautiful part of me 

Love is like missing someone.... 

and it all feels like love to me...

in love as love through love.... a wind ballet of wind in wind...

I keep reading about those who are trying to empty themselves to receive god's love....

this is pure clear and ungraspable... there are no hands to erase hands... no light to erase light.... no song to erase words and music, no lullaby to lure you into where you already are, what this already is... un-stain-able edgeless fluidity, without time or measure.... yet the heartbeat, all this and that, the aliveness you feel is known because of the duality you have heard is somehow bad....

its a love song... and you are the love the lover and the beloved... and it may sound lonely, but it becomes a sublime aloneness... and there are endless tears... such amazing beauty the beauty the beauty the beauty....

all and everything known to be pure fiction, this passion play of one of two of many of none... a hologram of this and that... a magicians tale, a thought dream painting a universe of separate things and time... and lovers spinning across the dance floor that dropped away long ago when love had you pinned... she slaughtered you and pulled out all you thought you knew... and burnt the dregs as the winds...

....ahhhhhhhhhh..... the winds blew away all signs that there had been a dancer, and a lover, and a dreamer of things to come....

yet here we are... dancing...

is night the loss of day

and morning the loss of night?

where does the moonlight go

after it illuminates the garden path

and your feet

walking

and your heart

sinking

into this very silence

that ravishes all ideas of a goal

or a path

or someone walking

first crow

last crow

Yet here we are

Loving each other 

An infinite array of colors

Knowing there are no separate colors

A Swimming thought stream

Of shared learned words 

Light and shadow itself 

Simply description 

How wondrous 

I watch my thumb on the screen type I love you and it’s all a swoon swooning through itself

And is that not a lovers dance...

How beautiful

pools of moonlight in your hand

in your eyes

in your heart

is its vanishing

its empty breath

paints the garden

wet with rain

and fallen leaves

tears for no one

tears for everyone

this beauty this beauty this beauty that has no words

is a word

this love this love this love that has no words

is all words

taste touch sight sound

joy love sorrow

despair

every word is love touching itself

through your eyes

your heart

this heart that beats

one beat

one kiss

one breath

this very breath

breathing itself

is the song of love

can you hear it

in the fading of moonlight's gaze

into darkness

Leftover Stars

what is the sound of this exquisite melancholy?
what is its color?
it is the end of summer
the reflection of a leaf falling
behind me in the garden pond
slowly slowly
the last rose
frozen in an early snow
saying goodbye
saying hello
winter's grasp tightening
and loosening
the beginning of spring
young buds
tenderly unfolding
return of the robins
hopping on the grass
bathing in the pond
the mournful cry of the dove
and her imprint on the window
where she crashed and flew away
I could not bear to wash it
every feather arched so gracefully
the glass festooned with spider webs
catch the morning dew
and echoes of sunrise
jewels everywhere

this beauty that cannot be caught
this breath that hangs in the still summers eve
mist evaporating at dawn
clouds fall down the mountain
bathed in a halo of sun
rips my heart out
thrusts these songs into sky shadows
so that I may see my own heart weep

this hush of midnight
that permeates the day
love and love lost
sorrow and joy
anger and heartbreak
deep deep despair
these eyes of love
looking out
looking in
break the mirror
as you fall through your own reflection
you hear yourself
laughing and weeping
there were never any sides to love



love falls in love with itself through your beautiful beautiful eyes

It seems that most spiritual seekers and teachers are the assumption that there is something to find.  Some goal or place to arrive, like finding a true self or timeless awareness or pure consciousness, or god.  There is a mostly universal belief that there is something solid and unchanging.

This path to god or wholeness or enlightenment is described, and often prescribed as giving up or letting go or accepting what is going on. Or surrendering... 

Often when the self is seen to be a made up story, the stark blankness of no self is filled in with a true unchanging self.  Awareness or consciousness or love are comforting concepts to fill in that terrifying emptiness.

It seems it is rarely recognized that there are no things whatsoever.

I cannot say how this recognition arises.  Certainly I never did anything or nothing to make this happen!  It obviously did not happen to me!  This ultimate collapse of everything and nothing is not an achievement and cannot be made anew, as there never have been separate things or moments or events. This is merely seeing what has always been.  Life doing itself, looking and feeling like anything at all.  An unbelievable seamless flow, without edges, nothing confined, nothing to be fettered or set free.

Although it felt like dying, it was realized that there was never anyone to die.  Time is felt to be illusion. It is always the first and last kiss.

Such seamless beauty of no thingness and all and everything spontaneously arising!  Continually blooming and wilting without space or time. Naturally perfect without perfection or imperfection, life and love flow through me as me, in this love ballet without a center or edges, or place to reach, neither moving or non moving without direction or non direction, without place or placeless-ness, no words can grasp or kiss this knowing feeling that has no words, as all words seem to divide what cannot be split and has no edges, no time nor timelessness, no space nor dimension nor measurement. 

Enlightenment cannot be achieved by any method or path as it does not happen to the imaginary persona.  It cannot be learned or taught as it is not a belief or understanding.  It cannot be transmitted as it is not a thing. 

It is not about letting thought and feeling flow, or going with the flow as there is no one to let thought and emotion flow.  There is only the flow, neither moving nor stable.  There are no things to be permanent or flowing. All effort-ing or trying to not effort perpetuate the painful illusion of separation. 

Yet the beautiful illusion of self and thingness, of love and lover and beloved remain, as no one can exist as a non self! Simply the belief and feeling of separation has vanished. This is more wondrous than any dream come true.  I could never have wished for or imagined this, as it is quite simply unimaginable.

I see seekers trying to get a goal that they imagine enlightenment to be, like realizing it is all a dream, not realizing that that would include them. Or trying to let thought and feeling flow, not realizing that thought and feeling and indeed life itself simply flows as it does, including trying to let it flow. I see seekers trying to accept what is going on, not realizing that this perpetuates the painful illusion of separation, not realizing that trying to accept it is not accepting it.

Mostly I see seekers trying to get rid of themselves, and I weep, as the self is the most wondrous gem in the universe.

Just as you are, right now, without any effort or non effort, you are beautiful beyond compare.  I love you.

the greatest desire is to end desire…

but desire is what you are…

enlightenment is not the end of desire…

it is the end of the belief and feeling that there is someone to desire, and separate things to desire…

joy and sorrow and love and awe merge into simply this beautiful ache of everything being a love dream

falling in love, swooning into itself…

this no thing ness includes all and everything…

existing as an imaginary persona, no one wearing the face of love…

you find you are it...

I stood on the edge of the known world 

wishing to drown in the sea of love

and fell 

and fell

and fell


into the deep darkness of earth


tangled roots of earth and sky


pierced my heart 


I drowned in my own longing


lost in a place where even darkness could not reach


this utter emptiness


held no lostness


nor could it be found


wrenched out every tear


shattered all dreams


every hope of light

and love


everything was gone


burnt on the pyre of love


the scent of ashes blew away


my hands my heart my life... 

there were no things to hold


no one with empty hands


no one with an empty heart


no one


no things


no nothing


no everything

nothing to remember

nothing to forget

no one to listen to the song of winds

nothing to hold

no one to hold

no empty shoes to fill

no one to walk along the path

as the ground had collapsed

was this the goal?

it was the end...

there was no place to arrive

there was never anyone traveling

there was no prize at the end of the rainbow

the colors were the gem

this empty jewel

spinning

this clear prism

these empty eyes

weep

What I love is the wind dancing in the treetops and the shadows swirling pirouetting cartwheeling waltzing across the grasses, the trail and our flowered carpet 

Shadows and light flowing in and through my hands as I watch them crochet...

There is a beautiful ache for all of this 

for the feel of the yarn, the sensuousness of the softness of the yarn, it’s tension and release as it’s stretches and relaxes. and I love the light and flash of the steel hook smoothly going through the yarn and creating beautiful patterns...

And I love being at the supermarket and seeing all those beautiful beautiful people and I love watching my hands pick up the things I’m going to buy and put them in the cart and I love waiting in line and watching people take things out of the cart and watching the checker pick everything up and scan it and put everything so beautifully into bags.

And I love walking and feeling my feet on the ground and the rhythm of life swirling through me as me...

It’s like there is a beautiful ache for all of this 

a longing for it, even as it happens.  

I am never bored...

the weight of light

fluid languorous lilting weaving tapestries of color

the weight of words

rippling off the tongue, the page, gathering in waves to sing a story

your story
more intimate than these words
yet these very words

tattered filaments of sun

stretching inside these words

reaching to kiss the sound of soundless-ness

dropping your heart into the sea

watching it boil

feeling the heat

of sun

where was the wind

as you watched it toss the water

tear your reflection

off your face

was love in your heart

is it in these words?

what has no words

but is all words

what has no light

but is all light

what is the sound

of your heart weeping

where is the space

of emptiness

can words be just sound?

is sound a word?

is love a word?

are you?

first tires on the road

still, day sleeps

last shadows of evening

wait under the bushes

finches, silent in the plum tree

looking for silence

sings your name

far more intimate

than this very breath

these words as you read them

this song of your aliveness

breathes you

this hush super saturates

the day

it cannot be lost

or found

spills everywhere

and nowhere

there are no directions

to open the morning

the flower blooms

and wilts

shadow of moon

hides in the day

faint glow of morning

finches sing

All separation is made up 

Knowing and feeling that is love

moon weaves its shadow

into and through the silent garden

tree tops lace the sky

face of reflected light

flows through me

leaves not a sign

or shadow

or footprint on my doorstep

deep kiss of darkness

of shadows receding into shadows

of hidden treasures

no longer needing to be found

of light swooning through light

of secrets

that were never forgotten

it was in the trying to whisper their name

that seemed to hide the moon from its shadow

that seemed to create a feeling of brokenness

that something was missing

that seemed to obscure this searing brilliance

of sublime unknowing

no one can see their own beauty

 simply because there’s nothing there 

we exist only as reflections in each others eyes

leftover stars

I soar through a carpet of sky

the pale dawn reflects these eyes 

prisms of infinite mirrors

shatter the sun into color and warmth

fathomless pools of dark

and acres of light

echoes of memories
a lifetime of tears
run into this river of song

one single tear

one word

one syllable without its skin

sounds like this morning

sliding through the canyon

one day

one hour

one minute 

one breath

just this very breath

always my first

always my last

no one rode the stars into moonlight

or ricocheted off the sun

this very kiss of daybreak

will break you

when tomorrow dies

there will be no doubt

no one mourns

this death

the winds of no tomorrow 

sing

like this

Nothing to love but love

what is the sound of the morning wind 

as love burns like mist in the searing light 

exquisite this pain of gold melting

light into light

love into love

crickets hidden deep in the garden

continue to sing

gathering blossoms of darkness

ringing through the night

the last bell in the empty hall 

lingering is the sweetness of day

the taste of light pouring though you

dark swooning through itself 

there is no one waiting 

for the night hawk 

clothed in the hush 

of midnight 

simply echoes of moon and sun

revealing their faces on the pond

fallen leaf ripples

through your reflection

who weaves the heaviness of night 

folding and unfolding cloud shadows into moon

tattered prayer flags sing of wind

unravel the day dream

untie the dark

shadows emerge and disappear into themselves

moon dances with her reflection across the shimmering waters

echos pool and gather in the eddies 

their silence sings  

your rippling raiment 

a mirrored glance 

of love's reflection 

you are the river catching a glimpse 

of its own beauty

and weeping 

wet in wet in wet in wet

light and dark and space 

ripped apart 

with one kiss 

one glimpse of this 

and you never recover

balanced on the edge of everything 

and not even nothing

love resides 

waiting for your return

  

this flowing tapestry has no edges

yet it is in the fringes we live

between the breath and the song

we love 

between the lips and the kiss

we sing

There are various stories the brain can write 

one would be 

I fell and now I hurt

 it could be 

the body falls and the sensations experienced are called pain

It could be 

Help! aliens pushed me!!!

I would have to say that when the story is pain is happening to a me it is entirely different from just the sensation of pain

And we are these stories 

Written by the brain using shared learned words 

We assume there is a physical world but we cannot know it until the brain creates the story of a you and a world of things and events 

This shared dream of objectified separation is a conceptual overlay 

There is not even nothing outside of it 

there is no outside, as outside and inside, like all this and that are mentally fabricated ideas.

There is no pre-verbal world 

that is just another concept.

It’s all concepts 

even saying this is it creates the idea that there is a that 

but there is no this nor that nor both

Nor neither

The razor of thought of words simply cannot go there 

this knowing of no thing-ness is intuited and can be felt always 

This seamless ease that saturates the dream

This sublime OK-ness of edges and edgelessness.  

And all trying to get this or trying to not try will perpetuate the illusion of a you separate from all that seems to appear.  

I don’t know how the imaginary walls become transparent but they can.

They call it walking through walls....

I called it falling through the cage of words, but I realized later that I am this cage of words 

 it simply becomes transparent. 

Wondrous beyond measure...

Beauty slides into and through beauty

Light flows through light

Space flows into and through space

And yet still I am here

No one can exist as a non-self

It’s simply always known and felt that all separation is made up

Beautiful beyond compare the mountains the sky the river the light pouring down 

the Canyon

The great divide between us 

which is imaginary 

yet the only place we exist

What is looking is not separate from what is being seen.  It is only words which make it seem like there is a thing called awareness and a thing called perception. 

Ultimately it is all unknowable! 

But, like mystery, unknowable can be another concept that might make people feel like they have a grasp on what is going on.

Either there is the feeling of separation, 

of separate things, separate moments, 

separate events, or there is not.

All conventional knowing is concepts... description... shared learned words...

Most mistake description for understanding.  Rarely is it known and felt that there are no separate things that can be put together into some kind of place of rest or understanding and someone separate from the whole shaboogie to do so....

The uninterrupted symphony of perception and its inseparable recognition is the gem of aliveness... 

somehow with imaginary separation there arises an awareness of being aware... it is most marvelous!!!! There can be a hyper awareness of that, permeating the dream.

This is the sparkling jewel that no one owns, that we are, this amazing awareness of being aware, and not separate from the flow of perception.

I am a girl a woman... a songster... 

there has been a profound shift in perspective that occurred in my brain... 

there is always a childlike wonder... 

the big wow consumed me! 

but the big wow had never left... it was merely not recognized... 

I do not know any children, so have no preference to hang out with them! 

I see everyone as unutterably beautiful and I weep that they cannot see their own beauty... 

I am this flow of the brains reactions... 

whether childlike or adult I have no clue and no longer think about such labels

she waits until she sees she is the waiting,,,, and falls through her own reflection ...seeing that there were never two sides to the mirror... nor a middle 

the soft breath of a gentle ok-ness sings...

I am this beautiful longing...

this love of loving...

this primal ache of our aliveness sings these lines,

these imaginary lines that define me

there are no boundaries in love

love is knowing there is no separation

yet without the illusion of separateness 

there is no love

a river needs its banks to flow

the moon needs the river

to see its own light

to kiss its own reflection

and drown in its own beauty

one tiny blossom

yellow among the fallen leaves

still water echos

the mountain's cry

your face is

rippling memory

the song of morning 

of day sliding...

of your reflection in sunset 

winter gathers in the shadows of moon

waits for

the last cricket

what is the mountains song

naked in the moonlight?

why did you hide your heart

in the valley

under the brambles

away from the searing light? 

you were afraid of drowning in love...

yet in the losing of your heart

this love

that was never yours

you found all this

this primal hush

infinite and piercingly intimate

illuminating all and everything

with a love

unencumbered with fear

or need

or hope

of love

she huddled in her footsteps

wrapped in summers past

longing for the thunder

that would rip her world to shreds

she wove a garment

that kept unraveling

she searched for the missing thread

she felt she had forgotten

and tried to remember the colors

of memory

she wove clouds into sky

sun upon the meadow

and waves into the sea

and kept looking for the thread

that would hold it all together

tattered clouds race with the passing sound of rain

dance with their shadows across the meadow

shine and shadow ripple through the grasses

thunder and silence of waves

crash and recede

life streams

through her empty hands

as they dissolve into the flowing 

How many see the self as the enemy? They feel that something is wrong and hear that there are some who live in apparent bliss, without attachment, and they long to get rid of that as well! They love so many things with an ache that they feel is wrong somehow. 

They desire love and feel they cannot find it... yet they are looking at it always.... it is just the idea of love that seems to block this obvious recognition

I see you and I know you are love...

You are the jewel of the universe... through your eyes, love catches a glimpse of its own reflection... 

and I weep and I weep and I weep...

in love as love through love 

love in love with itself... 

through your beautiful beautiful eyes

I wandered to the edge of all and everything... 

The known world exploded and every shard pierced my heart and eviscerated me, love burned every secret place I thought I could hide in... found the deepest darkest places I never knew existed... acres of blood soaked meadows and ashes of bones blowing away... 

....until there was not even nothing... 

But no one fell off that cliff, as there is no where to fall and no one who could... 

This unutterable vacancy swept through my brain like a great wind, blowing away all that I thought I knew... all ideas were seen to be false... including all ideas of truth...

and love...

I returned to the known world, knowing I was a flowing thought dream... that all things were mental fabrications... 

Yet the infinite beauty of thingness, wondrous beyond compare... 

The amazing beauty of all the stories ever written, the heartbeat of humanity... love and love lost, and longing for love... and the pain we get to feel so deeply... all of it feels like love...

the exquisite story of love sings me... sings these words these lines 

...these tears

and every thought is love and love is a thought...

I simply can find no other word to sing of this seamless beauty... 

it is belief in thought by the brain that emits thought that creates the dissonance, the feeling that something is horribly wrong... 

as there is a deep intuited knowing feeling of slipperiness, of seamlessness... 

that perhaps life is truly doing itself... and a fear of that... 

for if there is no one or thing doing life... not even god.... 

then where does that leave me?

and you are a weary traveller... 

smitten with the dawn

and a fresh trail

a tall summit in the clouds beckons

a bower of love

to shield you from your

ultimate aloneness 

that has chased you as long as you remember

how many times have you howled at the moon

and waited for an answer 

other than your own 

empty

echo

how many days will you walk

until you reach the end of walking

what moves your feet

but your beautiful desire for other

for more

for next...

and you have never found anything other than this walking

this desire

this exquisite aloneness

you fear

may consume you

with your own teeth

your own love

for love

eviscerates you

yet leaves no mark

upon your brow

to show that no one has won

this empty prize

you find yourself loving 

all and everything 

knowing there are no things

and no one to love

makes love all the more beautiful

makes these tears

everyones tears 

this was never about you

moon at dawn

slides over the canyon walls

running from the light

of my own reflection 

terrified of looking in the mirror and seeing

nothing

love crashed into the mirror

a collision of time and timelessness

of emptiness and fullness

of tears and their shadow

wet and its wetness

there is no source to this flowing dreamscape

no outside 

no inside

all is lost

nothing is lost

when you crash through your own reflection

every shard that paints your face

pierces you with an exquisite beauty

and unimaginable pain

until there is nothing in the dance 

but the dance

nothing to love

but love