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...
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
No comments:
Post a Comment