Do with this what you will
Regardless of how it makes you feel.
I was given a scroll, treasured and sealed.
I received it from an elderly man name Bill.
I do not know the magnitude of its appeal.
Nor was I told about the contents inside.
Very seriously, Bill said to me before he died;
The truth we must cease to deny and hide.
We must implement and not set it aside.
The truths behind the seal can heal our lives.
So, do with this what you will
Regardless of how it makes you feel.
silence
energised
by bliss beats
it is our being-ness
unadulterated and so pure
enlivening emptiness
wherein we rest
magnetised
peaceful
Futile flippant,
rules and obscure,
mousetrap pitfalls,
scurrilous lure,
to faze green novice,
unsuspecting candidate,
contestant sworn to zeal,
might pause when enjoined,
to allow one’ s muse,
lithe elastic scope,
supple latitude,
without reckless reign,
or barren folly,
however cunning ploys,
lay-by lurk dithers,
yet without prior notice,
draws, dupes, deceives,
but these are caveats,
when stricture is,
shrouded in vague,
plumes of hazed,
thin veiled hair-split,
one stumbles
and fumbles over,
whilst glazed glance,
skips blindly over,
cues, clues, clause,
tip-offs to
shady motives,
motifs! ulterior.
Om
Peace
I am as am
Luminous nothingness
Vibrant emptiness
Radiating bliss
Here now
Close to this sleeping root, in its flesh of ancient earth,
something struggles silently to become light again, to be born anew from shadow.
And we remain, with our thoughts hanging like a rope torn from the sky,
wondering whether to overlook its gentleness, sweet and annihilating.
A tumbling of black waters follows, over the forehead of my memory,
a shaken clarity, like a lightning bolt that lies, falsifies, and forgets.
Then I barely recognize the electric grace of the men from long ago,
whom I had seen carrying their rusted shirts through the swamp that scorched them,
planting themselves in the ground with arms outstretched like a cross, a condor on each shoulder,
men who wanted to die beautifully, shattering their bones like ancient bells,
their eyes extinguished like burnt amber, silent as icons forgotten by prayer —
and I feel them smoldering within me, like a root that refuses to sleep.
And I walk out into this magical, phosphorescent rain, mystical and cold,
to untie the rope that binds me across centuries and dreams,
to roll myself back into the root from which all that I am has struggled to become again.
eerie emptiness
we float away
our vision distant
longing extinguished
from the world detached
ties disconnected
yet peace suffused
in this void-centric view
cloaked in aloneness
strangely intimate
then we are reeled in
to bliss drenched form
vibrant and aglow
in the borrowed light
loaned by presence
as gift of grace
which we imbibe
to rekindle dying ember
that refractions of love
radiate across space
as a tribute
to our creator
without further inquiring
about God’s divine plan
since our identity
as something separate
from the all that is
has been erased
in place of which we are
fullness in emptiness
emulsified in this urn
wherefrom emanates
the elixir of bliss
commingled with light
banishing darkness
This look in my eyes is all i have sometimes.
The fact that she can see my soul and I'm grateful.
Those times they see a revealing fear
that turns into a fearless drive.
she will see what i have is hers
she will see a want for greatness that i need her to be apart of
A yielding smile
A glance of gleam
A bounce full of joy
A glaring vison and dream
She's chaotic
Vigorous and playfully vicious
Unpredictable and all wound up
Safely zealous, energetic and always driven
In spite of my limits
I found what moves me so
The love of a woman
Good, true and grace in bond
I challenge myself to stay challenged
As the sun slips behind the horizon
my mind slips behind my courage
all my best moments are with her
She's chaotic
Vigorous and playfully vicious
Unpredictable and all wound up
Safely zealous, energetic and always driven
She's all i can take and I'm glad
time stretched peace in a flat line awareness curve
ever present flowing orientation
positions us in state of bliss we deserve
transitioning to all-time meditation
that as we go about with gusto and verve
although we dwell in the void of cessation
tranquility is the fragrance of our soul
enlivened by bliss beats that make us feel whole
SAVOUR THIS, MY CHILD
Nothing reflects reality
Like God’s supreme beauty.
Look into the mirror, child,
And see His greatest reward:
Savour it in thanksgiving, for a while:-
No matter how many times you do,
You’ll always see God’s precious beauty
Looking back at you: this will always be true:-
Know that your beauty has its fragility, needing
To be anchored and solidified before it can be
Sanctified utility: codifying its glorifying liberty:-
when the new normal is rapturous bliss
as that that does not come and go or fade
it makes the void a luminous abyss
an ethereal mist in which we wade
in the timeless now for us readymade
is-ness of being-ness has a new name
a tempest of delight we cannot tame
Om!
We acknowledge with gratitude
The beauteous pull of bliss magnetism
Transforming us as a pillar of light
Here now in mind-body prism
This was mine to hold
now it rests within your hands
take it where you choose
I release the reins to you
yet my fingerprints remain.
I leave you the key
hanging from an iron chain
let your will decide
which way and when to turn it
you know which way I would go.
I have said enough
old advice has stained the page
my will has faltered
I can't unring the bronze bell
nor choose which echoes to wake.
The secret has flown
once my tongue unlatched its cage
two shadows now fall
one behind the mouth that spoke
one before the ear that heard.
Freedom bruises hands
when offered in heavy chains
gift-wrapped as free will
demanding they themselves choose
what each cannot bare to lose.
I pass the ember
hand to hand in stark silence
none can keep the flame
alight abandoned in shame
when both wills are disowned.
tidings boding all is well
divine light in every cell
higher heart now in focus
dances along love’s locus
spine to crown till the third eye
band of bliss that makes us sigh
as Divine Mother’s implant
vibrates as a soundless chant
though we cannot label bliss
birthed when polarities kiss
we pen these words just to share
body of light which we wear
humming static flat line awareness screen
where time stops, space ends and boundaries blur
this pulsating bliss dome is now our home
silent potent thunder, a loving purr
Our tryst with bliss is a nightingale’s song,
having no motive and without an aim,
prismatically refracting God’s gong,
poised in the void as a flicker-free flame.
To the throb of bliss magnetism we swoon,
in sync with the rhythm of the universe,
be the night pitch black or graced by the moon,
dancing without any need to rehearse.
Rapture rises ushering surprises,
each petal of heart opened by God’s hand,
enlivened by spirit that baptises,
as His grace available on demand.
Flickering space lowers her eyelashes ~
For now we see God’s face in such flashes
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