Although we encompass all realms and domains,
being That wherefrom the universe arose,
as living light eternal, we’re free from chains
and so in each sensation dwell in repose,
enlivened by bliss mists flowing through our veins,
donning love and light as our luminous clothes.
The vertical staff of power stands erect,
being our Self, doing as God does direct.
For every single buttered bun,
there comes a simple ques-ti-ON:
Should I have another one?
My answer came, and it would stun:
when everything is said and done,
acid reflux is not fun.
wee hours of the morn
deep stillness the mode
as funnel of pure awareness
we stand erect in our abode
all worlds around us swirl
illusions, dreamlike surreal
around the Sushumna whirl
we know them to be unreal
we are at the centre
pristine, untouched, nonchalant
we feel no urge to enter
for our heart is free from want
several hours go by
we remain in our cocoon
tranquil our heart, single our eye
manifest worlds jejune
It was past midnight
in my college bed
above the shuttered café—
the whole town in a hush
so complete I could hear
my own breath and quiet it,
when a crystalline voice
floated in through the dark
like something half-remembered
from an unfinished dream.
Amazing Grace,
sung soft and distant,
as if the night had opened
just wide enough
for me to hear it
and I ached for something nameless
which I longed to touch but couldn’t hold.
Years later, in another town,
I wandered into a church—
restlessly, not knowing why,
and I sat, not expecting
anything at all.
But when the hymn began—
Amazing Grace— again—
it rose around me
like something I’d carried for years
without knowing,
and everything in me
broke gently open.
I had to bite my lip
to keep from sobbing—
not from sorrow,
but because some long-closed gate
swung quietly wide
and I found myself
on the other side.
you’ve passed by this intersection enough times to know whose light turns green after
you’ve had those petty fights enough times to know that neither of you really mean what you say
you’ve been in this traffic jam enough times to know that it was actually better to take the other route
and you didn't take the other route enough times to know that you always, somehow, make the wrong choices
you’ve broken up with the same lover enough times to know that the break-up isn’t really a break-up
you've messed up your life enough times to know that you might be the problem
you’ve known you were the problem enough times to realize that you probably can’t do better
you've apologized for the same mistake enough times to know that you’re not actually sorry
you’ve made the same promise enough times to know that you can’t really fulfill it
you’ve heard the same line over and over enough times to know that it’s never going to get better
but there is no such thing as enough.
and you’ve said that enough times too.
Just as the eve has come
The joy of mourning has become undone
We tell ourselves each day is one
Expectance is the claim of none
A harrowed trail of battled drums
The humming sum of rains to come
Acceptance is the aim to some
While rejection feints the cause of shun
Epiphanies are all but done
The roar of morning has just begun
Harrowed hum will become
Sitting in solitude,
Tuning into tunes quiet as morning,
Inhaling wind-blown fragrant lilac,
Listening to foreign jelled voice of reason,
Envisioning expanse of horizon,
Thinking of lateral stance,
Seeing through lens kaleidoscopic,
Feeling feathery touch of love,
Sipping from gratitude's silvery cup,
Sifting through weights gone weightless,
Stretching with new concept of forgiveness,
Joy became a friendly royal blue bird -
Friendlier still, it perched upon your windowsill,
You looked, you saw, you understood.
Capture your moment supremely pure.
*
Sometimes my heart breaks
With music that was never played
Epiphanies swell and create
A still that I could never have foreseen,
A wonderful that is beyond soul’s grief
A tenderness that feeds the moment gentleness
A silent truth that arrives with autumn tones
A moment in time, fading, so lauded
Erasing the distant past, sharing time
That will forever last…
Breaking through the morning blue
With a touch of all the fresh and new
Dreams beseeching grace that is so steady
Risking the dance to awaken the pure
Rising in the heart, a kindness, a breath
Like the wind, she gasps and sails through the air
Remembering the sounds of everlasting expressions
Song in the air, a music so accepting
Melodies of light, softly playing on the night
Forbidding the heart to leave, forgetting the heart can easily deceive….
Trying to survive,
I began dreaming each day;
That tore me apart.
Reflecting its neighbourhood,
The lake water shone yellow.
Resembling a synchronisation of saturation
With the setting sun.
Seizing green colour of the grasses
The sun painted them gold.
Engrossed gazing pines dance spectacularly,
Only awakened with sparrows' chirps,
And Robins' melodious songs.
Perched on the edge of a dead tree,
Abrupt thoughts hovered my consciousness.
Despite a gust, the dead tree stayed firm.
Nighbours swayed, relished,
Departing sun of the beautiful evening.
It rests and rests....
The landscape mirrored delight,
It grieved its own death.
Incompetent to sense, the scorching sun,
The white sheet of snow, dusk and dawn.
It rests and rests....
Observed the ambience twice .
No mournings! no sorrow!
Nothing ceased their pace.
Infact , they moved on.
It rests and rests....
I wink at space and it winks back at me
Cognised as a flicker, a shimmer in the void
As above, so below, I sense all hearts aflame
With the light that lights all lights that has no name
Boundaries blur, veil of delusion is destroyed
Thus enabled by grace, my soul is set free
Our inner nature is what matters,
And it is by nature ineffable.
What we do and how we act,
Be it skillful or not, kind or not,
Is not this inner nature,
Nor really a reflection of it
But simply where this nature finds itself
The set and setting, time and place,
Of the conditioning circumstances of Life.
Of course, where we are, how we act
Matters somewhat
There are rules to follow after all
But only like a lake compared to the ocean
Of who we really are.
(10/31/24)
FALL EPIPHANY
How glorious
the season
how fragrant
the air
An autumn shaded
show
&
leaves
begin to glow
In meditation presence can expand,
encasing the universe within mind,
a fact that signals we should understand,
we best leave imagined beliefs behind.
Consciousness already is, all there is,
which is the reason how we were aware,
that our inner being is all of this,
known if with the vast void we dare to pair.
How can we deny our own existence,
when in direct experience it’s clear,
that extinguishing ego’s resistance,
the light of wisdom begins to appear?
Discover oh hermit, our true essence ~
We’re living light: bliss is our quintessence
the void of polarity interchange
touches the core of absolute silence
that pristine motionless singularity point
peaked potential present everywhere at once
reverberations of all vibrations before emanation
arise by force of will from this stillness fulcrum
being the seat of undivided consciousness
so nothing is separated from source
shifting gently into the heart of God
in that instant transcending space-time
soul presence may bilocate spontaneously
vibrationally in any realm or domain self-aware
as one becomes two and the two becomes many
as the breath of God we can too ensoul any
with the caveat that we be love and light
the throb of magnetism all pervading
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