Silhouette of Echoes


who left these fingerprints on the mirror
who saw through the glass
empty of an other side

was there ever a hand
was there ever a face
was there ever someone looking?

words slide off the paper of an unsigned letter
pour through figures at dusk
dancing
as night unfolds her wings
the dream of love flies out of your secret pockets
she leaves your signature in every footfall
but your name begins to fade
it becomes just more loops and lines
like the apostrophes and commas of fallen pine needles
...once they held the sky in the tops of tree
now they hold nothing
there is nothing to hold
no fingerprints
no signature
no yesterday to gather sky
no tomorrow when we will dance

fallen shadows blossom
the story unravels
as it crochets itself with every word
water
evaporates
so do tears




naked fierce love pierced me
ripped apart time and space
consumed all the air
and my breath
leaving not even a vacuum

ruthlessly love devoured the ground upon which I stood
and my feet
she erased the very ground of being
all shadow and light
all sound and
silence

can sound exist without translation?
or is the word sound simply an assumption of knowing this unknowable infinite symphony of perception?
open your mouth and birds fly out
words with wings
that seem to be heard across the canyon
but are only feathers
in the wind
circling softly
back to you
love letters
unopened
never written
never sent

a lasso made of wind
seems to create a circle of wind
'but I know wind!' you may insist...
do you?
all your knowing is only more description
thought seemingly circling around an empty center
spinning a dream of things like wind
and your beautiful tenderness
and your tears

only in this imaginary dance of twoness
is there wind and tears and soft cheeks drying
words and music and love songs
...deep kisses
and laughter floating across the moonlit dawn




is there a wordless essence beyond these words
a wonderland of emptiness
without emptiness?

there is no center to a word
these lines are filled with spaces
there is no bare root or meaning to any word
each word is naked like a note
lost in itself
and we are its overtones

as we are the color and sound of words
pouring through the shades and timbre of memory
floating through this poem
we are these very words streaming through our eyes

thought is a dream song singing itself
you cannot get stuck in words
there is no you outside of thought
we are linguistic paintings
an infinite dream world where water color paintings dissolve into their own colors
a river of song soaring through rainbows
we are arcs of scintillating light
requiring imaginary separation to be seen
to be heard
and to love






yellow finches
and ring necked doves at the feeders
sun slides across the grasses
slowly
gently
waves of shine and shadow have no rhythm
yet they are rhythm itself

ocean of light pours through me
I am this ocean song
of wind and light
and vast untamed seas
where there is no sound or silence
no stillness
nor movement
nor any one to sing

spider webs strung like Christmas lights across the garden
seem to gather space into a gift of light
suspended as the hush
the breath
of shimmering
bathing in its own ungraspable beauty

I swim through the softness of morning
roar of the garbage truck growling down the street
wind soars down the canyon
skipping sunlight across the waters
my reflection disappears into the shimmering
and I am neither lost
nor found
there is just the singing of echoes
reflections
dancing

no one can read the calligraphy of cloud shadows racing down the street
there is no need
to decipher love
or to hold starlight
to know its beauty

you turn around and cannot find the past
only an empty street where no one wandered
you spin and spin and cannot find tomorrow
there is no sign that cannot be read
its all words
they contain no meaning
or non meaning
there is no direction in a spinning sea of echoes
you drown in your own reflection

after the deluge the sun rises from your chest
leaving a vast measureless emptiness
and shadows of forgotten melodies
drifting down the streets
pooling in the gutters
where fallen leaves and blossoms gather

ancient stars pour through your hands
your tongue
your heart
made of starlight

without words
there is no center
or edge
to this song of life
singing starlight into your eyes
pouring our reflections
into love's burning echo






wind dances and does not leave her footprints

is it her smile upon your face?

does she long to dry your tears
or caress your softness?
or are you the longing
to dance with the wind

spinning into ourselves looking for a center
not even nothing can be found...
we find we are simply
a pirouette of wind
in wind

we are wind's echo
we find ourselves in the resonance of each other's reflection
we are liquid mirrors
soaring through the day dream of love




water
flows
disappears
into its own wetness

wind slides into its own movement

and love
well love is in the loving
river of love requires imaginary sides
but it seems to over flow its banks
saturate all and everything with an indescribable brilliance

you are the eyes of love
the light of the universe
caressing all and everything into existence
without you there is no water
no wetness
no wind
no love

and you are my heart song echoing in the trees and mountains and deep deep canyons that we can never cross... we exist only as echos of echoes and there is no more looking for the beginning or the end of the wind that soars across the great divide...

there is just the wind.... dancing.... with wind
we magically appear in the dancing....
only in each other's love light is there this resonance... this source-less echo...
without this dream of reflections... there is not even darkness... there is no outside... there are no sides...

we seem to be the dancers to unseen music.... a music that relies on separate notes and gaps.... and soft eyes and ears and tender squishy bodies....
....I am the loving of you... and the missing of you
gently
softly
wind caresses you from the inside out
and you are the wind's caress






Somehow the dream of infinite shadows fell through a dream of infinite mirrors and dissolved into this dream of infinite love






heart sings and there is no answer
only an echo
burning
in the marrow of love

utterly alone we do not exist
only in this imaginary space in-between sound
and silence
in between light
and dark
in between echoes our hearts mouth the words
and we are love's breath resonating...
love is the dance in between everything
and nothing
in between never
and forever
we are bathed in cricket song and the surround sound of moon

I am these words that paint my silhouette
empty of light
empty of shadow
twirling down the wet sidewalk
dancing with my own reflection
but there is no one here
nor there
there is no here nor there
nor in between

mirror of moon
has no other side

wind howls across the long desert moon
it is your love song
that cuts you to the core
you watch all your most intimate secrets
the very heart of you
a silhouette of echoes
dissolve

what is the sound of dew evaporating in the morning sun?

what is the song of tears

dissolving into their own wetness

sorrow

evaporating into its own beautiful melancholy

memories

slide through the thought stream

leaving no echo to beat your heart

nor signature on the window

as even transparency loses its solidity

what happens when words like sound and silence lose their meaning?

when even truth and meaning looses their grip on the dream...

when footprints gather fallen blossoms

and past and future are crushed into the flavor of your own

utter

aloneness

wind falls through its own breath

colors swirl under your feet

the ground dissolves

there is no one left to lose their footing

no hands to grasp the air

air and space are sucked into their own breath...

and wind breathes you

once again into the dance

there are no words left to describe

the absence of all and everything

and the fullness of it all

ahhhhhhhh.....

this magically appearing and disappearing scintillating dream

and the overwhelming love of it all

Love is a word

forest of night is eclipsed by dawn
silence
slow crescendo of wind in wind
waltz of trees and sky
lace of inline and outline flows through you and you dissolve
along with the imaginary walls
between you and sky

thought is dawn sweeping across the imaginary canyon creating light and shadow and caressing all things into the day time dream....

enlightenment is the dream of love sweeping through the dream of separation and erasing all things... time dimension direction movement... measurement.... all this and that...
even love....

yet love caresses you into her dream
not separate from all dreams...
and we dance in this imaginary canyon of infinite wonderment
we are this dream of love dreaming itself

love is the light that erases all shadows
it is the fire that consumes all light
it is the conflagration that burns even itself

the mind is a waterfall of words
skimming across pools of liquid shadows
memories paint the day dream with echoes
mirages stream through a color land fantasy of time and space and nothing at all

one leaf slowly drifts through mountain air
softly pours into its reflection on a shimmering stream
light dances in a water ballet of light

there is no one or thing underneath the thought stream
no one to manipulate it
or flow with it
a cascade of dreams
pouring into and through itself
seemingly creating things like thought
and movement
simultaneously self arising and self erasing

I am this flowing description
thought seems to take its place in the symphony of perception
there is no one left to read it
river of life flows as it does
spontaneously
naturally
all by itself

I am a wind song sculpted by wind
cast adrift in a sea of shimmering light
water tales of breathing
water
echoes streaming across an ocean of infinite reflections
that have no source
or shadow
or light

love songs have no anchor
or rudder to guide them
they are your sails
blooming
as you swoon into the wind
you are carried by love’s echo
she sang your name long ago
it was wind
and ocean
and sky
that swallowed you
as soon as you heard her voice

...but it was always your voice
softly riding the wind
soaring through you
the breath of love
caressing you
this love song that sings you
that you are...

the wind has gone camping again
she sings with her echo in the palace of pines
I love you
I am the missing of you

sea foam clouds drift through sapphire skies
through your eyes
through these words
worlds drift through your mind stream

there is no script
no one to read it
no words to slide off
no pages to dissolve into sky
no sky
words of love are only words
what is love
what are words
what is in the word sky
what words could be true or false
when true and false are words?

twisting turning swirls of golden gently brush evening across your face
and into your eyes
whirlwind settles softly into its own breath
the universe pours through thought
thought pours through the universe

words crochet a fabric of sound and light
...and shadows sliding down the mountain
pouring night into her empty dress
and starlight in your eyes

it is your naked eyes I long to kiss
for it is only in our reflections we seem to arise
we become the shimmering in between the walls of a deep deep canyon
we can never cross
there are no sides

thought dreams us
words as thick as thought paint our imaginary lines
without which we don’t exist
there never was a mountain
or anyone to climb it
yet here we are
walking through fields of flowing
we are waves of meadow wind
caressIng our tenderness
as we gently
gently
fall in love

wind has no empty pages to fill
life sings itself
this dream of love has no dreamer
there are only songs
singing this universe
poems unravel
and not even darkness remains

many believe that enlightenment is the magical disappearance of you
but you never were
nor was there a sky sprinkled with stars
nor devastatingly beautiful colors of sunset
no colors are painted without thought
all is thought
thought is thought

there is a palpable psychological and physical release
but who or what feels this when even feeling is an idea written by thought
the dream dreams itself
simultaneously appearing and dissolving
into itself

so what exists if even illusion is illusion?
there was never a sky to swallow you
or wind to blow through you
there was never any thing called love
there were never any things at all

spring and summer unfold with their blossoms
autumn brings it’s windy golden leaves
winter sings its long dark nights
and you remain
loving the beauty of the seasons
the fullness and emptiness of love
no longer looking for meaning or truth
or any solidity at all
simply loving the love of it all

the big wow is the knowing that there are no things nor non things yet all and everything seem to appear
let us shine in each other’s love light
and bathe in each other’s colors
sunset looms
and it is beautiful

This imaginary character does not prefer to use non-dual speak with friends and family. She never says, ‘there is no time or non time’, when apparent others say things like I’ll see you tomorrow’, and certainly she would never say, ‘there is no you nor me to meet’....

When her friends say that they are trying to keep up hope she never says there is no next...
when someone dies she never says that that person did not exist....

When someone says, ‘I love you’, she would never say, ‘Neither you nor I nor love exist’...

This echo land dream ballet dancer rarely speaks of this as who actually would care that there are no things nor non things? Most dreamlings see the beauty of the natural world but not of thought and feeling.... no one wants to hear about how unutterably wondrous it all seems to another....

If you want to be in the now I won’t say a thing, even though it’s obvious that there is no now, and no one to be in it or out of it.
If you want to examine your thoughts to see if they are true, I never say anything even though it’s utterly apparent that there is no one underneath or outside of thought who can examine manipulate it, as the idea of thought as well as a thinker is created by thought.

So if we are talking and you want this crammed down your throat you must tell me!
But it won’t do any good... there is no good or bad, no prize called enlightenment waiting for you... no one who has a magic key... there is no door... nor an other side... there are no sides and no middle.

As long as you are the belief in an other better more or next you will be the looking for them. You may look and see that there is no other better more or next and yet the belief remains... as you are that belief.  Who would want to erase themselves? Don’t worry, you are a flowing thought dream, like me.... as real as tomorrow and love and enlightenment.  You can’t erase yourself, you simply do not exist. All there is is thought, painting light and dark and color and form and things like thought and movement...
thought paints itself...
how deep how thick is thought
how thick is the word thick
..how deep is the word deep?
We are mental fabrications...

How wondrous the dream of all and everything magically self arises and self erases simultaneously without effort or non effort yet includes things like effort and ease.... and these very words are the dream... sliding through the mind stream that was never yours or mine...
How marvelous this life just as it seems to appear!
How sublime this love!

I know that this shift in perspective is uncaused, there are no separate events no separate moments, no cause and effect, and it does not happen TO the imaginary persona.  No one will never get this.... there is really nothing to get... nothing to learn by repetition or gain or lose by methods and practices, and that all this trying will only perpetuate the illusion of separation.

This is more like a ripping and shredding of the very fabric of life, of your life, of a you to have a life....  here it felt like dying, this psychological evisceration, like being skinned alive, and finding no one under the skin. I would never wish this pain upon another... for I have seen many go through this utter devastation and not fall all the way... they adopt the skin of philosophy or spirituality or religion... and poo poo the things I describe as impossible... yet I remember their tears when they had a glimpse as I was weeping too...

Non dual speak can never convey this love...
this love that seems to appear after love dies...
The imaginary center exploded and all that love I tried so hard to hold on to bled into the dream... and the water color passion play continues to dream itself.... no one lost and no one won in the war of emptiness versus fullness...

Anything said about the dream is the dream painting itself.
Oh my the sun is rising through the pines....

 the moment you appeared in this dream scape the world was shattered into infinite pieces
and you have been desperately trying to put them together ever since
the trying has defined you...
you are the feeling of brokenness...
...looking for imaginary things called wholeness... happiness... love...
for anything that will complete you

it feels like you are one half of a kiss...
standing on the edge of a bottomless canyon calling
...calling....
and hearing only your own echo
your own voice
your breath
your heartbeat
the wind.....

it feels like you are utterly alone
and you are
you exist only in this dream of separation
there is no outside to the dream
as inside and outside, like all this and that,
and you
are mental fabrications

yet the horizon may untie itself
as the canyon and sky and ground
and all things collapse into meaningless sounds
all your love letters
are returned
unopened
sealed with a kiss
the kiss of your own demise
the ink disappears
the paper dissolves
your world crumbles
along with the hands and the heart that longed for wings
to fly

wind soars through its own echo
sky slides through its reflection
sound falls through it’s own vibration
this hush between words evaporates
you fall through your own kiss
as all things
disappear
even silence

this utter devastation brings an unassailable peace of no longer believing or feeling imaginary separation...
and you discover that although no things actually exist
all and everything still seem to appear
the dream of enlightenment is still the dream
you cannot exist as a non self
you are a fairy tale persona in this water color passion play painted by thought
rainbows sailing in an ocean of color
constantly dissolving and re-appearing
...always the first and last kiss

this sublime peace remains
it feels like love has super saturated the dream with its own ungraspable flavor
this cannot be described as all words are knives...  stories writing themselves ...the dream dreaming itself...

and you are forever suspended in a delicious unknowing... in a constant state of utter wonderment.... such unstoppable joy and awe of simply being... in love with the love of it all

I see you on the edge of the canyon...
swaying to a music only you can hear...
we can never touch
but we can share our stories
and marvel at our beautiful humanness
and in this sharing we can can catch a glimpse of our own fathomless beauty
we simply do not exist without each other’s love light...
we are liquid mirrors dancing
echoes across the canyon...
love songs soaring
like this

morning streams into our palace of pines
and red castles
crumbling
thought paints a chorus of echoes that seem to create a me in the center of the dream
but the center is empty
as well as the castles
and colors emerging in the sun...

how beautiful that we do not know what beauty is
how wondrous that we cannot know what love is
how spectacular that we cannot know what any thing is
as there are none...
just this thought stream
chattering away...
all by itself...
flowing description is all we can know
yet the knowing is imaginary as we are concepts also...

we are a whirlwind of thought
splashing through its own echo
memory sailing in a choir of dream voices
never ours
never not ours...




putting your hand in the river... to feel the wetness you cannot see... you cannot touch light but your eyes soar through moonlight shimmering on the water... where are the walls between you and the moon? can you touch them?
where is the edge of love?

tracing the lines and loops of words poems seems to begin and end... stretch out letters into a ribbon of sound... tie up the song with a bow.... two loops and two ends... pull one end and the song disappears... doesn't matter which... pull a loop and a knot appears... what is inside the knot? can life be contained with words? what is life without words?
is life a word?
does it have a meaning outside of other words?
isn't meaning a word?
isn't love a word?

self is longing... it does not dissapear... it never was

Just Like This

darkness
rain taps her songs on the roof of my heart
beauty is indecipherable
love has no meaning
meaning has no meaning
I am echoes reverberating
ocean songs in the heart of a nautilus
who is there or here to listen
to the rain?
it is this flowing web of words
that spins this enchantment
without sound
or silence
or words

I am a river of echoes
reflections of wind
breath of dawn sweeps down the canyon
morning laughs
time runs along her banks
rushing pouring streaming soaring
I am wind dancing
there is no wind

ashes of moonlight
burn the very ground
chariot of clouds is lassoed by autumn winds
undress the sky
and you recognize your nakedness
a supersonic love song
saturated in wind soaked tears

all feeling is distilled into a sublime aliveness
I am awe
intoxicated
I am a dream of emptiness
of fullness
of nothing at all
the dream slides into an enchantment of un-knowing

we are this dance, yet no one or thing can be found
without an imaginary space to dance
or a backdrop of time...
the curtain is always closing into this dream of sunset wonder

this dancing is us
ephemeral and wondrous beyond measure
subsumed with an ecstatic love that drowns in its own beauty...
this water ballet of love
slipping sliding pouring into its own wetness through our lips our songs our hearts
our tears
pouring our aliveness into an empty glass
as the sides and bottom and
emptiness
falls away





first we mimicked the birds
then we made flutes and violins to sing of their beautiful flight
we are the instruments of love
but no one plays us
love has no hands
no arms to embrace us
we are our own embrace

my hands my arms are the dreaming
softly flowing through space
they reach out to touch the music
the song
the magic
the dance
the love
but I am the music dancing singing loving
weeping
at the beauty that there is nothing to touch
and no one reaching

we are the music
the melody
the words
without imaginary spaces
there is no melody
no words
no music
no love

we are a sailing ship of clouds
dissolving
into
sky

sky
dissolving
into
love

love dissolving
into
us
dissolving
into
love

what is death but the end of our song?
our melodies may linger in the hearts of a few
as music is many hearts merging
love is our heart songs recognizing each other
oh yes!
we sing, 'I am the loving of you'
as we dissolve into love's infinite embrace







it is the very dark that unravels night
light unravels day
what rips apart heaven and earth
and the silence in between?

what pierced the sky
the air
your breath
your heart
into tatters of moon embrace

what is on the other side of words
when side is a word
where is the wall between inside and outside
is there a door
a window
a promise of a bright tomorrow
fading
as all words do
as soon as they are spoken
what listens to sky
as it breaks apart light
and plunges our eyes into darkness

who made these words so songs could be written
creating stories so beautiful
we weep
and weep even more
knowing we are the story
of love of beauty of rain slashing down
of morning waiting behind drifting clouds
and mountains softly dancing above them

all stories are the dream
the dream is a story

we are shimmering reflections
the bubble burst and the luminescence is everywhere
and nowhere
we dissolve into our own light
our own love
we are the dream
dreaming itself
we are the song
of our own innocence




silk flowers are ripped by wind into pieces of sky reflection
I am a rippling empty dress adorned with wind flowers

what is an empty sky
without wind
without clouds
without birds
without blue
without emptiness
what is sky but an empty word
painting colors in your mind

the dream is a play of light and shadow
flowing across your lovers face
all and everything is the beloved
there is no lover
no beloved
nor love

seamless sameness
and infinite colors
both
and neither

there are no hands nor heart nor song
to hold or let go of the dreaming
or kiss the dreamer
as there is none
there is only this dream song
dreaming itself

love nuzzles your neck
and pours through your empty hands
your empty heart can never be filled
as it has no edges
my hands are dreaming
time loses her shadow
and no longer looks for light
love bleeds into wind songs

this road this road this lonely road
this imaginary trail from birth to death
where beauty roams
looking for beauty
where love wanders
searches for love
you can see her
an outline of an empty dress
a mirage bathing in moonlight
twirling and dissolving into her own silhouette

we are a river of stories
wind flowing across shifting desert sands
this path leading to a nowhere land
paved with lucky stones polished with your trembling hands
and love letters written and torn into tears
your lover's face shinning with the wetness of your eyes
morning doves
cricket song
and words dissolving into moonlight
memory writes your lines as they fade into an imprint of wind
flowers on an empty dress

empty footfalls on an empty road
dusted with eons of starlight and moonlight and the blackness in between
acres of searing suns and winds and countless feet and hearts and blood and tears and laughter
smiles that no one wears
a circular river strewn with hopes and dreams and fear and love
a mirage of burning shadows
ashes of wind
softly
settle into your footprints
as you dissolve
along with the path
and the ground
and acres of empty sky







your heart can hold its imaginary shape
for only so long...
until time dies
and love explodes
unties itself from the pier
and drifts the vastness of endless ocean
weeping into its own wetness

without sails or wind or rudder
without wings or feathers or hollow bones
or heart
to reverberate echoes
into portraits
flowing into a lover's breath

love removes itself from any thing or place or person
until there is nothing to be contained
and no container
there never was an empty heart
nor one that was full
you pour into your own shadow
and disappear

suspended in the depths of ocean song
skinless
fingerless
footless
neither joy nor sorrow
nor any love can be found

one day there is a glimmer of light
love pulls you from emptiness
whoooooooshing up and up and up and up
you burst into the dream of light
and love
and are amazed at this amazement
of light
and color
and skies and trees and mountains
and leaves
dancing in the summer winds

and yet
you are stillness
suspended in ocean song
the dream of emptiness
never unties you
still
the dream of love
sings you






what spills through the lips of the flowering moon
pours through her fluted hollow throat
casts her sea dreams across the silence

vast unending songs of infinite hue
echo across long desert roads and among trackless mountains
rush down deep dark canyons
softly ripple in the pools and eddies of my heart

life sketches itself
love fills in the colors
and the tears

flowered dress releases its petals into the perfume of emptiness
silken clothes of moon song
caress the nakedness of night

what releases hope and fear
so that life soars untethered

was it the death of love
that dissolved me into butterfly wind?





looking for myself in every flower, every drop of moon, every word, every letter, every cloudy morning, every sun filled afternoon....
every thought every feeling every memory, which could not be counted or measured... they seemed to be constant and not separate... how to dive into a stream when you are it?

searching in the spin of after images when I would close my eyes and dream of finding this illusive me...
trying to penetrate to capture this mystery
in every doorway
in every window
in every mirror
...and never finding anything...

I no longer knew what I was seeing... what is a marigold
what is yellow
what is moonlight as it drifts down the garden path
what is the sound of deep deep sorrow as it evaporates into silent tears

never knowing what I was looking for...
yet surely I would know if I found it!
not even nothing was found... not even the looking nor the look-er could be pinpointed
nothing was hidden
nothing was revealed

an empty road implies a road with people going somewhere
empty shoes imply feet
and someone dancing
an empty dress implies a person who might slip into it
but the flowers fell off the dress
the dress dissolved into the scent of moon Lillies
filling the garden that no one tended
that no one wandered
weeping
looking for forgotten moon light
the garden and all its beauty fell away
there was no ground
nor moon nor sun nor sky
nor emptiness

when the rain stops
where is the rain?
what is water
anyway?





what is in the shadows
but memory clothed in night
and who is wrapped in silence
but an achy fiery brilliance
longing to sing

who mouths the words that your heart cannot sing
who breathes night into day
and day falling through sunset
colors
gently brushing your face
with an unravelling of all tomorrows
all colors
all faces
all light
all dark
all memory

no one wears the clothes of memory
liquid words
a chorus of stories
some falling through the filter of time
laying in piles like forgotten autumn leaves
...another story sings of the golden
leaves appear
stories intertwine
memory is fluid

words are water
falling
through water
snapshots of a river
that has no substance underneath its wetness
that has no depth
nor movement
other than the words themselves
how thick are words
how deep is thought

where is the story of your life
as it flows through itself
not even one phrase can really capture
this undeniable aliveness
that no one has
it recognizes itself
continually
what could be better?
what else is there




the poem unfolds itself
paper birds soar
through the rips in paper sky
painted with reflections of blue
liquid mirrors you cannot see through
nor can you see your own reflection

do the creases remain in your heart
after love erases the lines
that folded it neatly into a secret pocket
and surrounded your beauty
with a blanket of hope
and fear

the hum of an all pervasive silence
pierced the song of remembering
and forgetting
...the story of leaving
and returning
slid off the pages
of your unsigned heart

there was no where to go
no magic to find
when your heart unfolded
the folds were a treasure map
you no longer needed
the treasure was never bound
in ropes of tomorrow




liquid shadows spill over the sidewalk and into the road
street lights are flooded with cupfuls of darkness
my face is strewn with left over stars
after I fell
into sky
falling

sky never really spits you out
it has no mouth to sing of its beauty
there is only your voice
singing sky

I drank the sunset
as it drank me
I am intoxicated with my own colors swirling
fading
into night

my eyes pour rainbows into the dream
the dream paints my eyes
there is no end or beginning to this circular thought dream
that has no center
nor edge
there is no point of view from which to view it
no one star in this infinite galaxy of wonderment
all is starlight
dancing







time leaves no fingerprint in your mind
she has no hands nor arms to grasp you

you try to manipulate her arms
push yourself out of her embrace
and you find you are inseparable from this stream
of words of thought of
what has no substance
or place
or time
there is no running away from this dream
dreaming you

I felt I was running in place for decades
and decades
a treadmill of hope and fear
I was the effort to climb a mountain that did not exist
all this trying seemed to form my feet
and a body
running desperately
uphill
looking under every rock
and in every crevasse
peering into every mountain flower
trying to catch the magic in every stream
looking for a knowing
that would erase the uncertainty that felt so painful

I was the looking
for what I knew not...
surly if I knew what I was looking for
there would be no need to look
there would be utter rest

somehow the mind relaxes into this delicious unknowing
and there is no more searching for imaginary things
as its known there are no things at all

yet I seem to appear as this singing
of what cannot be kissed with songs
I am the longing
to pierce your heart with this unfathomable beauty
I call it love
this wondrousness of knowing I exist only in this world
of time and space
this running commentary is my home
this is where love and beauty emerge
this is the magic I was seeking
it was always here
I never left the dream
no one can




it seems that there is an unchanging thing called awareness... or consciousness.... for years before the shift I thought I was this timeless awareness.... then it was discovered that there were no things to be changing or permanent... and no me to be this thing called timeless awareness or even nothing at all





I remember the last belief to go was the idea that this could be shared.... which was the death of belief, even a thin one, of others.... hence the never giving of satsangs...

and yet songs flow... like breathing... like the wind.... thought streaming as before but hugely different... no more constant self judgement and self correction... the end of shoulds for myself or others or the world... no more reaching for tomorrows... or happiness...

words... reaching...
to lasso the wind takes only a word.... but many words are required to hold the wind and your cheek together...

to paint to photograph this love song that sings itself.... to build this castle of wind that is continually collapsing... tattered wind songs dissolving into sky...

and these strings of words written for no one... for every one....... these stories that we are, when shared... seem to anoint us to touch us to pierce us... deeply...

we are the sharing of stories... of our humanness... of deep deep grief and sorrow and unbearable joy and awe.... we arise in this call and answer love song...
it is love that calls and love that answers...

love is the center less jewel that spins into the dream when we meet when we touch when we sing nakedly with words without words when our eyes meet....
just like this
this infinite dream of love dreams itself



we seem to appear in this love light that is not yours or mine
stars begin to spin as our galaxies attract one another...
whirling in each others proximity
we dance in this empty immeasurable vastness...
we are empty arms of light reaching....
for an embrace that can never happen
as light falls through light
we can never touch

words seems to create a wind that swirls across this desert without selves
without love
without beauty
waterfalls of love seem to slacken our unending thirst knowing that we are this mirage
of water
and a desert
and someone who would kneel down and cup her hands
and drink deeply
this dream of dark and light
swallowed her
and spit her out
into a dream of unfathomable love
dreaming itself

...and the ground collapses as the waters sink into the sand... droplets of shimmering diamonds are these stars that lost their center
and have no eyes to shine in
no heart can hold a compass that can no longer find anything called love....

yet I call this love
this singing that seems to sing me
sing you
into a lover's dance
where we appear only in this embrace
our arms our hands our words
our hearts fall through each other
as the words dissolve
the poem ends
just like this






And what of stars
And what of rainbows
And what of blood drying on the pavement...
What is the sound of moonlight streaming through the lace of midnight
We all know this magic
Whether it seems to be separate from you
Or inside you
Or beyond all definitions of inside
And outside
Life seems to magically appear
No one has the key the ticket
there is no door to life
Or love

Infinite colors of sorrow
And joy
Play through your mind-stream
Paint the morning with bird song
As the moon disappears
Into a pocket of memory
That painted moon light
On your beautiful face

There is no path to life
No one to arrive
No special place or time
Other than this
Vast intimacy of life
Flowing through you
As you

No words can capture life
Or love
Yet they paint the wind
Streaming down the canyon
And this undeniable magic
That has no words
That is all words

Wordless we sing
Footless we dance
And fall in love




Mmmmmm why do songsters sing?
To see their own beauty fall into the wind...

we are the conditioning 

there is no one underneath it... 

no one to be broken or mended... 

no imperfection nor perfection... 

yet 

this dream of you and me and we is subsumed in a love that erases all imaginary lines 

you can feel it

you know this magic 

everyone does 

and sometimes it feels closer and it’s noticed more often ...or further ...perhaps seemingly forgotten

but it cannot be remembered or forgotten

it is the forgetting and remembering itself

 

it really cannot be captured or held or described 

it is the describing itself 

it is the words themselves 

it flows in as and through all imaginary things as it is the imagining itself

and we seem to emerge in, and are, this unfathomable dream of love 

dreaming itself