We are the dreams that no one dreams

 

the story is seen to be a story
including the seeing of that
the endless searching backwards and forwards and up and down and looking for a sideways entrance or hidden exit ceases.......
there is no looking for a source or end point or any place to rest .... no knowing no certitude is sought... there is no one left to know... and no things to gather together into an imaginary understanding...
this turvey topsy loop de loop is a most wondrous liquid web of thought that has never caught or created a thing... 

and the unrelenting peace ....the roar of silence...  the fathomless hush... suspended as spaciousness...  
breath dissolves into this kiss of sky 
in sky

I Skyped with my Dad this morning and we were both so happy to see each other and hear each other's voices... and I miss him so
and I love missing him and loving him... 
this tremendous ache of our humanness erases all division....
love is the story of our lives




we are the imaginary I's of the world.

somehow there is a knowing that there is no separation, no reference points, no one big thing to be separated no fullness and no emptiness, and yet I am a reference point.
a prism of liquid memories where thought is translated into a world a universe of assumed knowning.... and all thought all words refer to other words,
thought spins a web of light and dark and
colors....

and no I can be found, and no looker can be found and no things whatsoever can be found
or lost
no things to be changing or permanant... no time nor space nor the lack there of...
a dream of drifting shadows playing in the sun...
and yes, its all about me and no me can be found
without a mirror... there are no reflections...
no mirror no looking glass can be found as there are no sides nor middle to this dream of infinite wonder...
it feels like the girl that longed to find love peered deeply into the mirror and fell through...
and every shard filled with her reflection as they eviscerated her and all belief in the dream that she was....
I seem to be a reflection an echo a thought dream
a pirouette of light and shadow and
color....

a seamless three dimensional light and sound show without beginning or end and not having any actual substance....
there is no one watching the show that is not the show
there is an underlying ease a hush that has permeated the dream. it cannot be pinpointed yet it is felt always.... is this the love i longed for? am I this longing? 

it seems like this girl this woman these fingers that tap on the screen are simply singing, 'hello here I am, lets dance‘, for without you I am not... and I love dancing with you although there is no me nor you
and I love loving you although there is no love
for all we can know is what it is like for us
we can never know what the colors look like to another
even our closest lovers...
and there are no colors...




I love you, like the sun and moon soar across the heavens and light and shadow soar through my heart
and love is a word that has been tattered into shiny streamers catching the wind and images of us

dancing

down the sidewalk

melting into the river of our lives...





when there is sadness and grief you are it... there is no special awareness to get or have or be....  this is just the obviousness of knowing sadness 
Of the immediacy of this recognition of aliveness whatever it looks or feels like 
And there is already and always this 
Yes? 
And I love you and there is a knowing of this love... a knowing of knowing...

The knowing of knowing is this imaginary separation the dream of duality that we are...
Awareing of awareing.

And without imaginary separation there is none... just naturally spontaneously without any effort or non effort this is always obvious 
Yes?
Your fingers on the computer or phone and watching the letters appear... there is a feeling of the tips of your fingers tapping the screen and there is simultaneous immediate inseparably a knowing of that.

it seems like it is the belief that there is more or less or other than this is the barrier to this... the belief in another side is the gate...
there is no gate....

life simply does itself and looks and feels like anything at all




after living for years in our car, without a mirror, i stopped looking... after the shift it was weird the first time i looked and there was no feeling like... 'that's me!' ...just this streaming three dimensional light fabric.... swirling colors falling through rainbow water falls... 

and I post tons of selfies... lol. and my husband thinks I am beautiful and wants to take my picture all the time, and I think he is beautiful but he doesn't want me to take his... and we have never had pictures of family on the walls, just our paintings of faces... and big mirrors in crucial places to help increase the light in our dark trailer.... 

and it is wonderful and feels like love to fall in love with every one I see... and I cannot imagine how someone could not be beautiful.... one look in their eyes and there is a recognition of our shared broken hearted beauty... this beautiful longing that we are.... 

and I write this and I am weeping as peoples feeling of not being beautiful is their beauty and really, we can never see ourselves as we do not exist.... we seem to appear only as reflections in each others eyes... this delicate wetness... these tears... simply words sliding from the tips of my fingers onto a screen that have no meaning nor non meaning yet seem to dance love and beauty into the dream that we are




what sound
these wings of love
through the tall tall pines
a mother a lover a friend
an unknown wanderer
searching for a bit of sun
voices barely remembered
lullybye or cradle crashing
young buck with small antlers eating the fallen leaves




and the wind sighs across pools of echoes
and the hush 
suspended
never leaves the wind

notes of un-singable beauty
slide off the staves
the music is undeniable
there is no where you cannot feel this aliveness
trying to hold the sounds in your mouth
is the singing of its roundness
and the fullness and the emptiness of wind
the inside of a flute you will never see
the inside of love which has no sides
fractals of unspeakable seamless beautygrow and recede
flow through echoes of words never sung
always heard
wind blows
tears fall
all and everything seem to emerge and disappear into
this
very
kiss





where is the space the leaves fall through
pages of our lives
falling

where is the breath that carries the song
where is this song
where is the wind
where did the sigh of moonlight go

we are a river of longing
flowing into edgeless ocean
without our banks we are not
and with this movement
and gravity
comes death

an imaginary journey of meandering reflections
echoes of shimmering behind and before us
blood and breath, life pouring through tall dark forests
deep dark canyons
sunlit meadows
cascades of smiles
and tears

what can be said about a story when the telling of the story is the story? 

I am the longing to share this beauty this love this... un-nameable this-ness which has no that-ness... and the words are beautiful in their missing of the pointlessness of the very singing of the absence of meaning and meaninglessness... I want to pour this beauty this love into you but you already know this, you are this beauty this love ...this love that has no words yet is all words...

somehow life seems to sing itself as my fingers slide across the keyboard and leaves fall 
slowly
in the garden and the wind
sighs
and there is no space in which life happens
no emptiness nor fullness nor anything in between
neither real nor unreal
nor both
nor neither

and out of this indelible blankness come the words 'I love you'




I loved the dove print in the window... but I love clean windows tooooooo
I love the fallen leaves
but I love as swept path tooooooo
I love the spider webs and dust
but I love the shiny wood grain tooooo......
life happens all by itself
sometimes I find myself dusting
sometimes not



walking on top of the cliffs above the beach
bits of broken glass color the path
lovers walking along the beach at sunset and the shore birds... flying...
carrrying the sunset out into the ocean so it would color the sunrise...

and she watered the flowers knowing they would freeze that night...
sometimes rain falls without clouds





and the hush before morning
empty of light
empty of sound
empty of wind
empty of love
this hush never leaves
never came
never left
inseparable from this song
is this undeniable aliveness
the hum the hush saturating the dream

first tires on the road
distant still
or maybe it is the autumn wind
memory fills in the blanks...
and it is all blank

thought paints the colors of night
and the wonderworld of day
words spinning twisting twirling weaving this enchanted web
fluid light
liquid love
pours through itself and feels real
and I am as real as you and tomorrow and love

real, un-real, surreal...
simply overtones that have no source
this is the world where we bathe in wonder
moonlight shimmering is a dance of reflections
like love
welcome to the home you never left
ancient songs fill in the emptiness
that erased itself when love died

can you islolate love
is it in your heart
in your chest
in your body...
can you measure and weigh it
how much space does it require
is there a place behind your heart
what soars what plummets
what drowns
how can words capture what is in between them when in between is a word?
....love is a word
word is a word

and the stars
and the ebb and flow of autumn winds

this is all of us... all of humanity weeping laughing dancing loving.... who am i but this loving this feeling deeply this sharing of our humanness.... 

it is a marvel that we can feel so deeply the heart ache of another... and the imaginary lines seem to dissolve in these tears in this heartache this longing this love we all share, this love that we all are... it is the core of who we are and we can never find it as we are it.... 

i dont have children yet i weep for all children.... i weep when my friends post the dogs and cats that need adopting... i weep when i see the beauty of love and the pain and suffering of all humans.... i recognize our broken hearted beauty in everyone's eyes... i always go for the eyes....

am the longing... it is a generalized ache... when it is not I am not.... sometimes there is just blankness.... but mostly there is both.... and it all floats in wonderment... what is it that I want.... 

I am the longing to love you to touch you to pour through you so we can flow together in love as love through love.... and these paltry words are all i have they sing me they write my lines I am watching them appear now and my fingers slide over the keyboard and the coffee maker burbles and the finches and sparrrows and doves are out in the cold feasting before the grey cat comes along.... and the day begins, colored in by memory... liquid transparancies flowing through each other....

standing on the edge of the horizon
swallowed by acres of moon
layers of memory float through each other...
no focus can be found
bathed in infinite colors
no color can be found


standing on the edge of the horizon 
swallowed by acres of moon
layers of memory float through each other...
no focus can be found
bathed in infinite colors
no color can be found



we are painted hearts soaring through rainbow winds....
breath of love sighs in your empty chest....
wonderland of colors fill in the blanks
and it is all blank....
there is no empty canvas other than the warp and woof of words
weaving emptiness
weaving fullness

no one sings the words
no hand holds the brush

the brush dissolves into its own strokes
paint dissolves into colors without substance
words of love dissolve in love...

and we are this dancing
this pirouette of thought
whirlpool of words in a river of words
a silhouette of wind
in wind




and the passsion play continues... people are born and fall in love... fall out of love... some are wounded in love, some are wounded in war, some recover, some don't, ....some get sick, some recover, some don't, ....we see our friends and lovers get sick and die, we are all dying.... and this is the dance of life of love, this is the only dance in town...

and there are no dancers and I am a mad dancer a mad lover
wounded in love
wounded in war...
seeing everyone as a purly innocent....
we are  
inseparable 
in our broken hearted beauty....

and
simultaneously....
there is a deep peace subsuming the dance...
an unassailable silence pervading the song... 
a hush of unknowing among all this assumed knowing... 
lovers may be fighting and yet
the sun flows on the flowered carpet... 
doves alight on the feeders
and fly away when the grey cat visits....
this three dimensional flowing light show of seamless ease is always obvious... 
this unfathomable aliveness that seems to appear like anything at all........
no source
no maker of this amazing dream of you and me and
we
and there is love
yes this love that seems like a paltry word to capture this overwhelming feeling of wholeness of unicity of....
well, love

and I seem to fall in love with everyone I meet
everyone i see is unutterably beautiful
and pure
and dying
like me



this is the song of all of us... all of humanity weeping laughing dancing loving....
who am i but this loving this feeling deeply this sharing of our humanness….
it is a marvel that we can feel so deeply the heart ache of another... and the imaginary lines seem to dissolve in these tears in this heartache this longing this love we all share, this love that we all are... it is the core of who we are and we can never find it as we are it….
i don’t have children yet I weep for all children.... I weep when my friends post the dogs and cats that need adopting... I weep when i see the beauty of love and the pain and suffering of all humans.... I recognize our broken hearted beauty in everyone's eyes...
I always go for the eyes….
am longing... it is a generalized ache... when it is not I am not.... sometimes there is just blankness.... but mostly there is both.... and it all floats in wonderment...
what is it that I want?
I am the longing to love you to touch you to pour through you so we can flow together in love as love through love.... and these paltry words are all I have, they sing me they write my lines …I am watching them appear now and my fingers slide over the keyboard and the coffee maker burbles and the finches and sparrows and doves are out in the cold feasting before the grey cat comes along.... and the day begins, colored in by memory... liquid transparencies flowing through each other….
standing on the edge of the horizon
swallowed by acres of moon
layers of memory float through each other...
no focus can be found
bathed in infinite colors
no color can be found




autumn night falls into the garden
hush
naked branches hold the dark
maybe there will be snow tonight

dream arms reaching...trying to escape the dream... dream lovers loving.... trying to hold onto love...
storylines weave time into the dream
liquid words flow through your mouth your breath your mind your heart
circle a piece of sky where you see your face
a silouhette of echoes
mirrors dissolving
into vowels and consonants that no longer cast a spell
or a shadow
or light

they dance their dream time dance and you are the enchantment
the magic
the jewel the prism the heartbeat between the in and the out
hovering between the story of love and the story of not even nothing....
stories flow through stories... 
and its all story all dream a cascade of wonder falling through acres and acres
and acres of tears



morning slides through these poems
I am a call and answer love song
words caress and paint the flowing dunes
and no hill nor grain of sand can be captured
liquid dream scape sings itself
wind sighs
and the desert answers the wind's request

what is this that these words cannot hold
a feeling of sensuous aliveness
an unravelling of the most luminous tapestries
into threads of golden
the threads dissolve
and the shimmering remains

words without a voice
without paper or screen to deliver them
nor eyes nor ears to hear them
nor heart to hold them
I give them all to you

they paint me and in them I dissolve
it is this nakedness I love
that no one wears

in this very kiss
as you are reading my song
it becomes our song
and we dance in timeless wonder
sharing our heart songs
we become each other
this is the intimacy of love





a million suns explode in your heart
leaving nothing but echoes
of sound
flowers

ancient prayers unravel
petals flow across the barren ground
gather in the puddles of your footfalls
waiting for the wind

words without breath
songs without sound
what is life
without longing?




only through the aperature of us, the imaginary self, the brain dreams the dream of things





sun melts into his own heat and light
moon slides through her own shadow
brilliance of a diamond shimmers yet has no center
cold clear morning
the stillness never recedes

doves sail into the garden
I can feel their warmth and softness through the window
I see my face in yours
feel my hands as yours
thoughts feelings gestures...
when you weep
I weep
looking out
looking in
I can no longer tell who or where or when or why and no longer care
it feels like a concert a sympony a chorus where no one leads or follows.... a union of all and everything when there are no things
nor non things... nor one big thing....

these movements these thoughts these feelings do not belong to anyone
they are as real as the moonlight shimmering in our dreams

we are the dreams that no one dreams