Wondrousness of love

 

Love kisses herself through your lips 
she says ‘I love you’ and it is the echo of your aloneness.... 

we are the brain's preferences... isn't that wonderful?
I go to an island inlet with my husband, shell hunting.... and there are only shells... waves crashing and the roar and suck as they drag the sea worn shells in and out.... vast sea and wind and rocky cliffs and it is all beautiful... I cannot imagine picking one shell out... and yet
after a few steps... I find a particularly beautiful piece and watch my hand reach down.... and revel in the softness of hardness
of sea and wind and my hands and these ancient shells... the softness and hardness of life... inseparably this emptiness and fullness of love... this timeless dance of wonder... the way light and shadow caress our lips singing this enchantment of a three dimensional love song... 

and we are this love light... dancing.... twisting twirling into and through each other's love songs...each other's love light... no words no tears no songs are owned... all and everything magically appearing just like this...

this is an edgeless symphony a chorus of one with many apparent voices blending rejoicing in their own splendiferous sounds... 
this music of life itself basking in its own loveliness...

we seem to appear and meet in this love song... only with imaginary separation are there different notes.. and intervals in between them... this music of love requires imaginary separation... this dream of you and me is an imaginary canyon that has no sides.... but you can hear your echo dancing on the cliffs and in this imagining there are other dancers other singers and spaces between us... where stories emerge and fall into our edgeless hearts.... l am these stories these love songs sung by no one sung by everyone.... it is the song of our wondrous humanness shared that resonates and we are its overtones... 
tears and laughter and tears.... 

dipping into the waters of love we find ourselves drowning in love's magnificence...



edgeless heart
all encompassing love
those tears were never yours....

as you chase love she chases you
falling into your own reflection 
nothing is found
neither here nor there nor in between

you are a love song the universe sings
this rushing roaring river of oceans is your heart
breathing the tides
you are this dream this virtual reality this hologram of infinite rainbows dissolving into sky....

dreaming is empty 
awake is the dream
describing words with words seems to weave a circle of knowing
and a someone in the middle singing these words that write themselves
trying to find the center or the edge of knowing is the dream spinning itself...
there is no center
nor edge
nor dream

we ask is it real
what is real
but a word
immediately and intimately this is intuited
but cannot be known
the store front is from an old western movie set
there is nothing behind the facade
no things to buy
no purchase or handholds
no reference points
no pointless-ness

and what then, you may ask, when this is realized?
simply easeful enjoyment of this humanness we all share
this love that blossoms endlessly
without time or non time

petals falling
drifting along the sidewalk




empty bliss
blossoms blooming
multi-petaled  light falls softly through the morning
gently dawn teases colors into the garden
empty now
of golden finches
sunflowers wait....

I am memories of rainbows painted on windows when I was afraid of the cold dark winter
and the rhythm of spring sighing through the snow
terrified of nothing
of everything
lest the puzzle dissolve
lest the words disappear into the darkness

hanging on to any scrap of hope for love
when it was found the terror abated 
for awhile... 

but the emptiness was never filled
it can never be
I am the emptiness I feared
all is empty
all is full
there is no one to be this or that
all is super complete and wondrous
no matter what it looks like... 
or feels like
there is no trying to capture feeling
no one or thing separate from it
feeling is the story
the story is the story

we are the story 
this love story
that swings and dances through these words
sharing our stories we see that we are each other
no one exists alone
no one exists...

we are this love light dancing
I can feel your radiance bathe my heart
and in the sparkling we seem to emerge
just 
for a brief moment
we are the eyes of the world
catching a glimpse of our own love and beauty
ricochet of love
kaleidoscope of wonder
love dissolves into itself
speechless she sings
I love you
we are beauty weeping at its own magnificence
love weeping at its own beauty....



sieve of starlight drinks the rain
liquidity of love swallows you
empties her echo into your shadow as you slide across the garden 
falling
into
flowers

erasing all
embracing all
love slides through me
the touch of your heart
in mine




ocean falls into sky
sky into ocean
horizon tips over and you fall through your own reflection

falling through rainbows
colors dissolve
falling through sky
sky falls through you
falling through the falling
no one is left to fall
there was never any place to land
no air to breathe
no one to love

suspended as infinite nothingness
without time or timelessness
life seems to continue
no longer believing in the dream is the dream
there is no emptiness
there is no fullness
nor anything in between

rising up through oceans of sky
bursting into the roar of echoes dreaming
wind and light soar through you
and you are wind and light soaring
there is no need to look for light or shadows
bathed in liquid moon



finding nothing here, nor there, nor anyone looking... 
not finding a here nor there nor in between, I cannot say that it boils down to I am, we are, or this is.... 

yet, life, for us, is description, is words.... is this love song that sings itself...

and the mountain dawn is reflected in the hubcaps, backwards in the mirror through the window, while canyon winds rush through the garden rivers of oceans roar through my chest...
pour through this mouth these teeth these lips this tongue that has tasted life's indelible sweetness that lingers in my breath, these words that have no utterer, seem to spill into the river of love which overflowed its banks long long ago...




wind breathes itself
sky bathes in its own blueness...
tears fall through their own wetness
love letters written in the dark pleading for light are never answered
no hand writes the story
no one waits for an answer
there are no answers
or questions

this tapestry of flowing
cannot be reduced to warp and weft of sound and light
the threads have no beginning nor end
they weave themselves as they disappear... 

impenetrable intimacy of life swallows time
infinite emptiness without emptiness is an idea
thought cannot go there
there is no where to go
all thought dissolves into letters
strewn like stars across the vastness
falling
burning in their own fire

light dissolves into its own brilliance
space erases its own insubstantiality
love seems to flow into and through itself
but there is no flowing
no love...

galaxies exploding into infinite wonder
love feels like that



trying to separate the stars from sky leaves star mirrors gliding down your cheeks...
neither separate nor joined life is all of a peace...
edgeless seamless wonder falls through its own amazement
leaving echos of shimmering that ignite your heart
this searing brilliance consumes you
and all paths toward this light

no one strolls in this starlit dream
yet we seem to meet in this love light
and bathe in the shadow of moon
breathing in each other's echoes
the taste of love remains

we are memories
shooting stars
burning




And you may look and say, “Hmm, I can find no thing which thinks, no thing which feels, I can find nothing inside that is the doer of action. And yet that will not erase the feeling that there is something solid, something unchanging, something permanent, the feeling of an inside and an outside. The feeling that you are a thing surrounded by infinite other things. Perhaps this is because the very looking perpetuates the belief and the feeling of someone who looks.



and what of love?
surely that must be real....
what of yellow butterflies
and golden sunsets
what is golden...
what is the meaning of beauty
what is the meaning of meaning

tales of sorrow and joy are empty
as well as the story teller
love is this dream of wonder slipping through a dream of space and time
time is the dream of butterflies soaring through the mind stream 
delicate petaled wings of thought
space a feathered wind that slips through its own breath
this dream that we are has no edges or compartments
I seem to be here
and you there
without the story of space and time we are not
how would we twirl across this mirage if we could not touch?
how can we touch if our lines are imaginary?
if our lines are made up
what does that say about us?

the dream unravels and the tattered threads cannot be caught
we are the infinite colors of this tapestry
the words in this fairy tale of wonder

sweet sublime unknowing never slept
it cannot awaken
there is no sleeper
nor dreamer
eternity is empty
emptiness is empty

but love, love is the dream that seems to pull us together
in this pirouette of thought
and in loving you
I recognize this love light that I am
that you are
that this is
is love the dream?
yes
is it real?
what is real but a thought
what is thought but a thought...




long windy night
low moan of moon 
sky wanders through the lace of trees
you hold your breath...
or does breath hold you and seem to halt this dream called time you never could find

this immeasurable momentary that has no beginning nor end
nor middle
seems to explode and implode and erase all boundaries...
there never was an outside to all this was there?
never was a before or next... 

yet breath seems to resume and the timeline begins
the wheel keeps turning
and you long to be suspended as beauty again... 
this sensuous lostness...
were you ever lost or found?
can you find that person who wandered late last night
or was she just a dream...
where did the darkness go?
was there ever a night blossoming into this wondrous dawn
stretching her arms across the horizon her chest rips wide open
...heart exposed
you drown in her light
she bathes in her infinite reflections
liquid sun dancing on the mirroring sea

gull skims the waters and you can feel her wings
every feather elegantly tuned to the sea and sky and wind
your fingertips quiver
as you soar through the river of reflections
that have no origin
or destination

when are you not this dream of infinite echoes
the wind feeling its own softness
through your skin
the earth touching its own hardness
through your feet
sky swooning through its own light
through your eyes
love kissing herself
through your lips
life touching tasting feeling its own aliveness 
through you
an imaginary prism
a window between an imaginary inside and outside
a skin of thought
painting a world of light and color and beauty and love

time seems to hold still or move
and there is no one separate from this apparent ballet of life
dancing you
dancing me
dancing this pirouette of love

whirl wind of thought seems to spin
to weave this enchantment of today and tomorrow
but there is no tomorrow
you know that



lustrous night
awash in the dream of light
moon is suspended in spidery threads
filaments of thought spin the dream

powdery wings of the night moth brush your face 
the hovering
swallows the hush
that never entered or left the dream of the summering moon






we are not love
there is no one to be love
and no love to be...

we are sourceless echoes in a canyon of reflections... 

words flow and paint this river of love that has overflowed its banks... all is consumed in this flood
all measurement all distinction all ideas of this and that and you and me and love and beauty, all lines that defined perfection and imperfection are erased... all lines between an imaginary past and future and this thing called now dissolve... 
the boundaries between joy and sorrow melt in the liquidity of love

hope and fear simply memories of a desert dream where you wandered as thirst itself, looking for the source of these waters you were but could never drink...

love swallows the ocean as she swallows herself

we are mental fabrications... less substantial than thought... we are imaginary selves... personas... a flow of words... memory preferences belief... that no one has... 

this shift does not happen to the imaginary character, it is a profound shift that occurs in the brain...

love is also made up... as are all things... this worded world this virtual reality the dream of separation is the only place where we exist, as concepts in a conceptual world... 
this is the only place where love and beauty live...




this searing delicate intimacy of life seeing touching tasting itself through you.... 
you are love's mirror, utterly transparent, 
you do not exist without imaginary separation
you cannot see yourself, as reflections are simply reflections... 
there is no one looking...
no one to see
what is in between light?




so many non dual speakers go on and on about how there is no self
who cares?
there is no love either...
nor mountains or trees or vast infinite sky...
ya cant even say 'this is it'
as there is no this nor that nor both nor neither...
and there are no its
no things or non things...

so what about this thing called enlightenment
remember there are no things
no selves
and therefore no one to become enlightened... 

no separate moments, no time or eternity, no never... 
so no future when this imaginary persona will get or not get enlightened...  

so many hear that there are people who seem to be 'non selves'
wow that sounds good!
to not be this puny little fellow with these troublesome thoughts and emotions... 
maybe I can become a non self!
or even, as some teachers suggest...
an enlightened self!

how can a non self walk along the trails of a non existent mountain?
or hold the hand of a loved one as they die
...weep as if their heart will break
and recognize this broken hearted beauty in everyone they see....

how can a non self see the wonder of rainbows
as they dissolve into sky
how could a non self see this unicity
how could a non self love?

all that seems to be going on is a mentally fabricated dream
just like the dream you had last night
where did all those characters go
where did last night go... 
where is today
or tomorrow
no one knows what is going on
no one knows more about this than you do
some seem to rest in a most delicious unknowing 
some not... 

but there is no right or wrong way to feel or live or love or die
and we all do
live and love and lose love and die
and well
love is just the best part of the dream
it soothes the great aloneness we all share
and I love you
and I love you for that

there is no choice and no one choosing how life feels... separation felt or not... cause and effect or not... purpose or not... meaning or non meaning... 

and really no separate feelings from which to choose...

all is a mentally fabricated thought dream simply self arising and simultaneously self erasing....

there is no one to be liberated from the self and no self to be liberated from... 

we are the dream the thought stream made of shared learned words but the stories that are written with these words is unique

we can never know what life feels or looks like for another... 

how colors appear to another... the very idea that there is another is an idea... 

we are this great aloneness... there is no escape from the dream of separation that we are

in sharing these stories we catch a glimpse of our own wondrous humanness

we seem to be mirrors of each other and seem to arise in the sharing... in the love...

I can never know what love feels like for you

and this is the great mystery and wondrousness of love...