dawn does not hide
the setting moon
breathes gently on my window
illuminates
dove's interrupted flight
as she tried to soar
through her reflection
feathered shell of moonlight
fades into day
there are no edges to the emptiness you fear
it swallows you
and you find you were only an imaginary lover
waiting on time's doorstep
one half of a kiss
falling through your own lips
cricket song
early dusk
sounds of autumn
winter birds arrive
hungry for spring
I am a river of reflected light
drowned in pools of echoes
A mirage sinking into stone
saturated in morning moon
morning greets the thinning moon
shadows pour from the looming hills
dark into light
light into dark
when is the end of tomorrow?
why is it written in your heart?
a stone you cannot release
a fire that will not cease
as it feeds on itself
how can the longing end
when you are the longing?
as you seem to dissolve
into the knowing of no tomorrow
time loses its footsteps
you discover there is no one to merge
and no thing to merge with
no god no source
no stars to guide you
no harbor in this shoreless ocean
this sea of dreams
is your only home
you cannot cross it
or wait for your return
you hear whispers that there is an end to this journey
that no one is taking
an end to the long dark night
of pain and twisted shadows
and glimpses of joy
and ever present brilliance
some seem to linger in this oscillation
and some seem to bathe
in the collision of joy and sorrow and awe
one foot dissolved in seamless sea
one foot dancing
In the shimmering face of love
windy night unties itself
from the mountains
from the garden
from the blooming clouds
from my anchor-less feet
no one danced in the starless night
consumed in the breath of darkness
no one carried shadows
into the morning
I am not the wind
nor the tether of night
nor the bearer of dawn
there is no night
nor day
nor wind to meander
through the dreamland
light and dark
and all color
lipstick smudges
blood spattered mirrors
shatter
pierce all and everything
with unbearable love
can you hear the sound of your heart breaking?
it is not your heart
nor your love
there is no one to carry it
nor place to hide
the furthest reaches of day and night
dissolve
into unknowable vastness
without space
without time
without emptiness
love is a poem that sings us
petals open
bask in sparrow song
the out breath is the weeping
of infinite shadows
tenderness wilts
into its own softness
a thin thread of wind sighs
over our graves
planted in moonlight
mists slowly dissolve
the garden
infinite sky
folds into sky
such unfathomable beauty
I watch you mouth the words
that flow through my heart
and we almost touch
before we fall into each other
and disappear
how shallow the mountain
how deep the sky
counting the stars
within
without
rose petals fall
skim the surface of night
what beats this heart
this echo of a dream within a dream
within a dream...
it beats itself
like the moon streaming across the sky
its all reflected light
without a source
afterimages of moon glow
shine
immeasurable
this life without edges
without beginning
or end
or middle
always blooming
always wilting
this edgeless center less singularity
inseparable from the virtual reality
of this and that
and me and you
and love
wind slides through low slung trees
golden leaves scuttle down the path
cliffs are bathed in amber clouds
sparrows hidden in the plum tree
begin the chorus of dawn
is this the breath of morning
or is it mine?
where is this silence
that sank like a stone
this ultimate grief
that swallowed my heart?
where is this emptiness
that demolished the house of love
and all who lived there?
emptiness untangles
the web of words
and we lose our skins
our hearts
and the very ground of being
and find
there is nothing underneath
our beautiful nakedness
nothing to wear this all encompassing love
what is this song
that sings our names so sweetly
and weaves the magic carpet
on which we soar
this is our song
can you hear it singing?
every note
every word
every heartbeat
echoes...
paints your beautiful face
love's scintillating reflection
into my heart
awakening
endarkening
how beautifully the dream spins itself
raveling and unravelling
blooming and wilting
sound and silence
color and light
and dark
clearly clearly
without any one to know
thought paints echoes
of a flowing dreamscape
that has no edges
nor center
nor outside
from which to view it
or change it
or pour endless love letters
into the sea of dreams
ripples endlessly flowing
caused by no stone
nor wind
even your beautiful reflection
has no face
even this beauty
this awe
this heartbreakingly wondrous
unknowing
spin into this fairytale
of love
this dream of a dream within a dream
sourceless reflections twirl
above and below
into and through each other
seemingly drawing lines
with space and time
between here and there
there is no distance
when all measurement is made up
there is no before or after
when separate moments are imaginary
there is no outline of sky
nor inline of tree
nor any thing that can be captured
as there is no hand to grasp the flowing
that neither moves
or stays still
no one who sings
nor is silent
we are but
an echoes dream
there is no sound
no dream...
no words...
yet all these words
paint the dream
first dove carries the dawn
into the garden
she does not know of flying
Oh! how I longed for wings!
morning streams over the canyon walls
darkness slides into the shadows
love kissed me with her indelible vastness
and it was not the dove nor me nor love soaring...
lit from within
and without
erasing all sides
and the middle
love's unfathomable light
pours through itself
it is this
always
without time
or space
life's intimate
infinite
embrace
falling through itself
no one wears this star strewn sky
or its myriad inseparable shades of blue
this light bejeweled rainbow garment
of mirrors
has no owner
as it shimmers and slides into its own reflection
infinite sky plunges into fathomless depths
tossing and twirling the sea of edgeless dreams
waves crest and catch the dawn
fall into rainbows
pour through my eyes
soft sea winds
dance on my cheeks
dry these tears
that no one weeps
for everything
for nothing
how I wandered the wind swept beaches
naked and alone
picking up every shell
begging to know their magic
I held them to my ears
and heard the lullaby of my heart
setting them back down
trying not to disturb the silence
wind erased my footsteps
love songs are written with wind
in wind
river of distance and time
longs for the shore-less ocean
where day and night
here and there
dissolve
can you hear its song?
it is the morning doves
on the telephone pole
it is the canyon winds
singing your name
...like all names
indecipherable
and we are a temporary lens between an imaginary inside and out
a transparent membrane singing sound and silence
a crystalline prism painting light and dark
and color...
dancing twirling swirling exploding imploding into infinite shades of love
beauty breathes our lips into a kiss a song a cascade of wonder greeting itself
kissing itself
evaporating all sides
inside the blink of an eye
that is never shut
nor open
The mirror parts
Leaving only infinite reflections of reflections
All sides disappear
and there is no middle
or source to this echo land dreamscape.
The imaginary line between inside and outside and all things disappears
Life slips through its own fingers
All and everything radiant jewels blooming and wilting
simultaneously
Wind softly softly
ripples infinite tears
suspended
In a spider web
spinning reflections into this dream of love
When imaginary separation it is no longer believed
it is no longer felt
But you have nothing to do with this!
it is not circumstantial
and does not happen to you.
You can examine what’s going on and see that there is no outside to what’s happening
And therefore no other
No better
No more
And no next
Yet then you will look elsewhere or try to do something else to know this, or get this...
The belief remains as you are it.
There is no believer.
You can look and realize there is no unchanging thing that thinks feels or believes,
yet that does not erase the feeling that there is a something unchanging here,
inside life,
doing it,
or the feeling that thoughts and feelings
and life
is happening to a someone.
It’s not about feeling ‘oneness’ with everything as there are no things and no one big thing.
Trying to do anything or nothing to ‘get’ this will solidify the illusion of a separate do-er.
Especially if it feels like your attempts are succeeding!
You are the belief in separation,
you do not have that belief,
the shift is more akin to the brain no longer believing the entire charade it is constructing.
quite often people ask me if they should go to a satsang or meeting with a teacher.
I usually say that enlightenment cannot be taught or learned or given away, and when looking at the teacher I can most often say that the person has no idea what I am singing about.
however, when a friend of family member is looking for relief from depression or anxiety or pain I recommend meditation or exercise.
awakening is not about feeling better!
it is not an adding of spiritual belief so you can bathe in love.
it is a ripping and shredding of all belief, and since you are belief it hurts like hell!
I look at the costs and am amazed!
I see the desperation of seekers and am reminded of what it was like for me...
and I weep
some ask me to give meetings
but that would be stealing!
for if you give money you expect something in return
however, you can buy all my books for a fraction of the price of a satsang
and I can promise you
you will get nothing
as there is nothing to get
and no one to get it
the setting moon
breathes gently on my window
illuminates
dove's interrupted flight
as she tried to soar
through her reflection
feathered shell of moonlight
fades into day
there are no edges to the emptiness you fear
it swallows you
and you find you were only an imaginary lover
waiting on time's doorstep
one half of a kiss
falling through your own lips
cricket song
early dusk
sounds of autumn
winter birds arrive
hungry for spring
I am a river of reflected light
drowned in pools of echoes
A mirage sinking into stone
saturated in morning moon
morning greets the thinning moon
shadows pour from the looming hills
dark into light
light into dark
when is the end of tomorrow?
why is it written in your heart?
a stone you cannot release
a fire that will not cease
as it feeds on itself
how can the longing end
when you are the longing?
as you seem to dissolve
into the knowing of no tomorrow
time loses its footsteps
you discover there is no one to merge
and no thing to merge with
no god no source
no stars to guide you
no harbor in this shoreless ocean
this sea of dreams
is your only home
you cannot cross it
or wait for your return
you hear whispers that there is an end to this journey
that no one is taking
an end to the long dark night
of pain and twisted shadows
and glimpses of joy
and ever present brilliance
some seem to linger in this oscillation
and some seem to bathe
in the collision of joy and sorrow and awe
one foot dissolved in seamless sea
one foot dancing
In the shimmering face of love
windy night unties itself
from the mountains
from the garden
from the blooming clouds
from my anchor-less feet
no one danced in the starless night
consumed in the breath of darkness
no one carried shadows
into the morning
I am not the wind
nor the tether of night
nor the bearer of dawn
there is no night
nor day
nor wind to meander
through the dreamland
light and dark
and all color
lipstick smudges
blood spattered mirrors
shatter
pierce all and everything
with unbearable love
can you hear the sound of your heart breaking?
it is not your heart
nor your love
there is no one to carry it
nor place to hide
the furthest reaches of day and night
dissolve
into unknowable vastness
without space
without time
without emptiness
love is a poem that sings us
petals open
bask in sparrow song
the out breath is the weeping
of infinite shadows
tenderness wilts
into its own softness
a thin thread of wind sighs
over our graves
planted in moonlight
mists slowly dissolve
the garden
infinite sky
folds into sky
such unfathomable beauty
I watch you mouth the words
that flow through my heart
and we almost touch
before we fall into each other
and disappear
how shallow the mountain
how deep the sky
counting the stars
within
without
rose petals fall
skim the surface of night
what beats this heart
this echo of a dream within a dream
within a dream...
it beats itself
like the moon streaming across the sky
its all reflected light
without a source
afterimages of moon glow
shine
immeasurable
this life without edges
without beginning
or end
or middle
always blooming
always wilting
this edgeless center less singularity
inseparable from the virtual reality
of this and that
and me and you
and love
wind slides through low slung trees
golden leaves scuttle down the path
cliffs are bathed in amber clouds
sparrows hidden in the plum tree
begin the chorus of dawn
is this the breath of morning
or is it mine?
where is this silence
that sank like a stone
this ultimate grief
that swallowed my heart?
where is this emptiness
that demolished the house of love
and all who lived there?
emptiness untangles
the web of words
and we lose our skins
our hearts
and the very ground of being
and find
there is nothing underneath
our beautiful nakedness
nothing to wear this all encompassing love
what is this song
that sings our names so sweetly
and weaves the magic carpet
on which we soar
this is our song
can you hear it singing?
every note
every word
every heartbeat
echoes...
paints your beautiful face
love's scintillating reflection
into my heart
awakening
endarkening
how beautifully the dream spins itself
raveling and unravelling
blooming and wilting
sound and silence
color and light
and dark
clearly clearly
without any one to know
thought paints echoes
of a flowing dreamscape
that has no edges
nor center
nor outside
from which to view it
or change it
or pour endless love letters
into the sea of dreams
ripples endlessly flowing
caused by no stone
nor wind
even your beautiful reflection
has no face
even this beauty
this awe
this heartbreakingly wondrous
unknowing
spin into this fairytale
of love
this dream of a dream within a dream
sourceless reflections twirl
above and below
into and through each other
seemingly drawing lines
with space and time
between here and there
there is no distance
when all measurement is made up
there is no before or after
when separate moments are imaginary
there is no outline of sky
nor inline of tree
nor any thing that can be captured
as there is no hand to grasp the flowing
that neither moves
or stays still
no one who sings
nor is silent
we are but
an echoes dream
there is no sound
no dream...
no words...
yet all these words
paint the dream
first dove carries the dawn
into the garden
she does not know of flying
Oh! how I longed for wings!
morning streams over the canyon walls
darkness slides into the shadows
love kissed me with her indelible vastness
and it was not the dove nor me nor love soaring...
lit from within
and without
erasing all sides
and the middle
love's unfathomable light
pours through itself
it is this
always
without time
or space
life's intimate
infinite
embrace
falling through itself
no one wears this star strewn sky
or its myriad inseparable shades of blue
this light bejeweled rainbow garment
of mirrors
has no owner
as it shimmers and slides into its own reflection
infinite sky plunges into fathomless depths
tossing and twirling the sea of edgeless dreams
waves crest and catch the dawn
fall into rainbows
pour through my eyes
soft sea winds
dance on my cheeks
dry these tears
that no one weeps
for everything
for nothing
how I wandered the wind swept beaches
naked and alone
picking up every shell
begging to know their magic
I held them to my ears
and heard the lullaby of my heart
setting them back down
trying not to disturb the silence
wind erased my footsteps
love songs are written with wind
in wind
river of distance and time
longs for the shore-less ocean
where day and night
here and there
dissolve
can you hear its song?
it is the morning doves
on the telephone pole
it is the canyon winds
singing your name
...like all names
indecipherable
and we are a temporary lens between an imaginary inside and out
a transparent membrane singing sound and silence
a crystalline prism painting light and dark
and color...
dancing twirling swirling exploding imploding into infinite shades of love
beauty breathes our lips into a kiss a song a cascade of wonder greeting itself
kissing itself
evaporating all sides
inside the blink of an eye
that is never shut
nor open
The mirror parts
Leaving only infinite reflections of reflections
All sides disappear
and there is no middle
or source to this echo land dreamscape.
The imaginary line between inside and outside and all things disappears
Life slips through its own fingers
All and everything radiant jewels blooming and wilting
simultaneously
Wind softly softly
ripples infinite tears
suspended
In a spider web
spinning reflections into this dream of love
When imaginary separation it is no longer believed
it is no longer felt
But you have nothing to do with this!
it is not circumstantial
and does not happen to you.
You can examine what’s going on and see that there is no outside to what’s happening
And therefore no other
No better
No more
And no next
Yet then you will look elsewhere or try to do something else to know this, or get this...
The belief remains as you are it.
There is no believer.
You can look and realize there is no unchanging thing that thinks feels or believes,
yet that does not erase the feeling that there is a something unchanging here,
inside life,
doing it,
or the feeling that thoughts and feelings
and life
is happening to a someone.
It’s not about feeling ‘oneness’ with everything as there are no things and no one big thing.
Trying to do anything or nothing to ‘get’ this will solidify the illusion of a separate do-er.
Especially if it feels like your attempts are succeeding!
You are the belief in separation,
you do not have that belief,
the shift is more akin to the brain no longer believing the entire charade it is constructing.
quite often people ask me if they should go to a satsang or meeting with a teacher.
I usually say that enlightenment cannot be taught or learned or given away, and when looking at the teacher I can most often say that the person has no idea what I am singing about.
however, when a friend of family member is looking for relief from depression or anxiety or pain I recommend meditation or exercise.
awakening is not about feeling better!
it is not an adding of spiritual belief so you can bathe in love.
it is a ripping and shredding of all belief, and since you are belief it hurts like hell!
I look at the costs and am amazed!
I see the desperation of seekers and am reminded of what it was like for me...
and I weep
some ask me to give meetings
but that would be stealing!
for if you give money you expect something in return
however, you can buy all my books for a fraction of the price of a satsang
and I can promise you
you will get nothing
as there is nothing to get
and no one to get it
exquisite rhythms of fluted light
whirls and swirls of light and shadow
fingerprints of time fade on the window
memories fall through the glass
rainbows on the rim pour through me
as I drink deeply
and watch my reflection swallow me
what is a reflection
when there is no one looking?
simply echoes of light
passing through themselves
leaving no wake
nor traces of tomorrow
to put my finger on
and write my name in the condensation
the remnants of my breath
fade with the glass
and disappear
into this very kiss
I was trying to pinpoint the echo of a melody
I had forgotten long long ago
My lips mouthed the words
I could not remember
But I could feel the exhale
Of perfection
I was the inbreath of longing
Trying to stop time
So I could capture beauty
And never die
One day time died
It was pierced by its own memory
And I fell off the timeline
Between birth and death
I plunged into the abyss of my own reflection
my silhouette unfolded her wings
And dissolved into endless sky
Where the sea meets her shadow
The sun basks in her own warmth and light
And we fall into and through each other
Laughing
web of moon
lace of trees
mountain cascades into sea
love has no branches and cannot hold sky
nor light
nor darkness
nor even itself
love is an avalanche
that erases all distinction
yet is a mirror
of infinite reflection
piercing you deeply
so that you forget
and remember
this intimacy of life
kissing you from the inside
and out
this skinless touch
is all that there ever is
or was
or will ever be
it is the death of time
and the space that time forgot
exploding into itself
again
again
and
again
canyon winds are bathed in moonlight
softness of an early autumn
here is the warmth of summer
wrapped in my shawl
star light lace flowing behind the trees
life paints this dreamscape
it cannot step outside of itself
it is a ballet of one
twirling with itself
without edges
or hands
or hearts
to capture it
of course it is precious beyond imagination
beyond meaning or non meaning
beyond beauty
or any ideas of love
you know this magic deeply
but you cannot touch it
dancing with yourself
like sky in sky
the middle explodes
there are no edges to infinite blue
the treasure is the not knowing
the unfindable untraceable unfathomable nature
of life doing itself
just like this
weaving and unweaving
a tapestry of rainbows
with out a loom
or endless threads
without beginning
or end
what tales unravelled the storybook of me?
how was my heart ripped out
how did I lay there bleeding
with no one to sing with of this sublime anguish
how was it that love bled into the dream
and why is this brokenness so beautiful?
after the tsunami
there are tears
joy and sorrow and awe and love
have merged
I have no idea how I feel
I have giving up looking
all ideas of self reflection are gone
there is no one left
only in this fairytale of love
does it seem like there is a someone
and another to love
a here and there
to dos-y-dos
a call and answer love song
singing itself
exquisite rhythms of fluted light
whirls and swirls of light and shadow
fingerprints of time fade on the window
memories fall through the glass
rainbows on the rim pour through me
as I drink deeply
and watch my reflection swallow me
what is a reflection
when there is no one looking?
simply echoes of light
passing through themselves
leaving no wake
nor traces of tomorrow
to put my finger on
and write my name in the condensation
the remnants of my breath
fade with the glass
and disappear
into this very kiss
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