Cessation Poems - Poems about Cessation

to whom does this come gamut of emotions caged by thought we drown in dark swirling oceans to whom does this come when we’re spirit unbound how may our true Self in feeble form be found to whom does this come this urge to ascend we are the universe so with the vast void blend to whom does this come divine pulsations warm we are that witness calm in every...

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Dwell oh hermit, in the vast, formless void, seeking nothing, animating the heart, whence no longer by wispy thoughts decoyed, invoking grace, feel bliss ignition start. The first thing we cognise is boundless space, noticed not since our eye searches for form but if steps toward heaven we’d retrace, we must be receptive to love’s touch warm. Lost in a dream world of...

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With mind the seat of intellect, looking at parts that make the whole, it can match not wisdom of heart, sparking stardust, by bliss flakes flecked, seat of soul, directing life’s role, breath by breath adding love to cart. Thoughts are useful but let them rest, that fire of desire does not rage, whence by shifting into the void, choosing this way, to get...

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Let’s lay to rest all doubts that grout, rooted in conditioned belief, that thus giving our soul relief, we’re at peace as we go about. Transforming as vast space itself, recognising we’re all of this, all nodes within suffused with bliss, no desires remain on our shelf. As God’s grace pours in from above, our feeble form is energised, objects no longer weighed and sized and...

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When I cease to exist in my body, My soul will find perpetual light, I will be gone from the night, I will be free from the darkness that walks into my room, An end to the recalcitrant gloom, My mind craves perpetual rest, Will I forever be in the solitary nest? When I go through the door at the end of...

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The One is in all, so we cannot fall, if we but align, with the pulse divine. If mind-body shell chooses to rebel, by employing force, we’re distanced from source. When all desires cease, we flow like the breeze, vibrant yet detached, whence soul’s in form hatched. What happens is this: resplendent in bliss, we glow as God’s flame, labels cannot name....

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O to be the humble horizon that slumbers in restlessness, I grieve not for the magnolias that withered amidst cruel claws of chaotic cravings. I weep for the serene wildflower whispers that once upon a blood moon were lost in the eclipsed shadows. And when satellite sapphires flare with psychedelic streaks, I reminisce about the nights when stars scattered across the cursive cerulean, mirroring how...

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I never promised. That I’d write forever. Or even everyday. Maybe every Sunday. Or every Monday, if I get lazy. We all hide sometimes. I never promised to come back from that. Maybe I should have. But if I did, I’d have it written down. They would all remember something like that. When I was 21, I picked...

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asleep to awake in the dreamless world of dreams, where perception and reality, have merged and lost their identity, where the mist of reason is so thick, that delusions guide the way, purpose and direction is unknown, but the journey is still made, slowly through treacherous paths, fear of death lurks but dread of life is more, in those undefined vague wanderings is a kindle...

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Deep into meditation I finally let loose useless desires - those desires that in the end have been so meaningless I feel myself lost in a moment - which to one like me implies always being caught up in things for which no catching up is needed except in others’ expectations for me In my mind’s eye, am I seeing God? Love for everyone floods my...

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my disembodied i floats above ego… id… superego constructs psychological cum gravitas, or so they are told straining, clawing the drumbeat frantic as mine is...

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CESSATION That pain is like treading on bottle tops Or stumbling into some hidden caltrops Suddenly, as when some lightbulb pops The welcome relief when it finally stops Like making big gains on currency swaps The blood pressure and heartrate drops Yet is thought so typical of all milksops With a false sympathy everyone adopts Once ended, one hopes it never returns Not just pain,...

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cravings of form consumed me oh how I wished to be free although organic form is but dust I am torn between divine love and lust so as to become self-aware I decided to stagnate nowhere releasing each impulse as soon it arose remaining vibrant in blissful repose...

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Our to do list knocks on mind’s door but we don’t live there anymore, so when the echo returns not, cravings of ego come to naught and bliss in-pours through every pore...

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with what purpose and to what end do we fix goals related to ego instead if we but will to God bend we will garner wisdom very few know recognising we are spirit, not form there then remains nothing to be done to whispers of love choosing to conform we become the light of the central sun...

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