Tuesday, 4 May 2021

Behind the Words - Part 3 of 3: Renewed Life

Renewed life—
Our mountain climb, 
No longer tinged
With acidic melancholy
And regretful dread
Of the state of the world,
But with true liberation—
Humankind as one,
Arisen from the shadows
Of blind strife and futile
Swipes, to the quenching
Abandonment of old rags
And infested slime—

Breathing anew—
Our primordial connection,
Now glowing with Life,
Never looking back
To dead memory
And sorrowful prison,
For this too has ceased
To exist. Its power retracted,
Now pulled and pushed
With the wild winds
On desert floors,
It floats around like 
Holy cloth disintegrating
Slowly into particles
So fine, again to dissolve in the great
Ocean of the cosmos.
A return to homogeneity,
Indeed are all condemned
To do. The inevitable end—
What has always been
And which is Now.


Behind the Words - Part 2 of 3: Love Ends Strife

How then can we fight
Each other with eyes closed
And with uninspired fury,
Engage in endless dispute
And battles of horror and rage?—
With insight, so too
Does anger cease,
For the Self is removed
From the robot of evil,
That which was constructed
By it's own nature and material,
The material of thought,
The material of separation.
The arms do drop
In silent surrender.
The Love, not of words,
Not of direction—a vector!,
But of clarity and peace—
Of clarity and peace.
We embrace as friends,
Our global share—
We laugh with Relief,
The first and last Relief.

Behind the Words - Part 1 of 3: That Which We Are

Even behind a condescending smile
Shines the Truth—
Behind the white or yellow teeth,
Behind a fit of insanity,
The rolling and gurgling brook
Swelling fast with heavy rain—
Then the senses are flooded too,
With premeditated propaganda,
Irresponsible or responsible
In design. The power of this media—
So engrossed we dive,
The instinct, magnetic,
We engage in a world of colours
And sound so bright and real—
The words, oh the words,
Abounding thoughts.
The endless waves
And rain does swallow—
Yet who is swallowed?
Not the victim to be sure,
For he is constructed
From these thoughts.
Like teeth eating teeth,
Quite impossible indeed—
Are we the Truth?
Our bright and shining Self?
The Watcher of the storm,
The Be-er of experience,
The Light of darkness—
Belief too gets flushed away
With thoughts,
As the old paint of uncertainty
Flakes off, revealing boundless
Space and timeless commotion—
How ironic! This Pure Absence
Has never been extinguished.        
How could it, when it is
Not material?

We already know,
This first and last truth,
How could we not?
For we are This,
And This is all. 


Friday, 30 April 2021

The Impenetrable Field No.1

Basic Futility!
One rests in
Ironic glee—

The unsought terminus
Is upon one
As the pure stream
Resumes once more
Its unceasing readiness
To flow and heal,
Like Nature's movement
In the birds, the trees,
The wind, sky and sun—

Rest knowing
The Pursuits
Are in vain,
For the impenetrable field,
The Love, is unending and always


The Impenetrable Field No.1 - 2021


Sunday, 11 April 2021

Notes No.1



There is so much awe in a simple flower.
Life is beyond richness—
It's beyond the division
Of "the flower" and "the me".
In the act of looking
The object and subject
Are not, but there is only
The singularity of Act.
The divisive "reality of thoughts"
(The separative beliefs)
Is not the Truth.
It's imaginary, constructed,
When the thoughts quiet,
The beauty flows in.
The beauty of a stranger
Walking along the path,
The beauty of a single falling leaf,
The beauty of a cloud
Moving between the sun
And the looker.
The ugliness of expectations
Allows not room
For sweet appreciation,
Loving gratitude,
And a healthy heart.
There is not anything
Quite as beautiful
As the exchange of smiles
Between two Loving

Tuesday, 23 March 2021

Gesture No.4

Like a beach ball 
Softly bouncing down the stairs—
The quiet descent,
Of objects it did consist,
Yet the motion suggested
A distant field.

The colours revolved
Within the round,
A planar spectacle
From the world of depth—
The faint pulses
Beat out arhythmically
Upon the colliding
The stadium of silence,
The deaf motion
Of a distant cloud
Drifting along
In the open sky.
The colours of the scene
Faded to a homogeneous
A strange combination
Of stillness and motion,
Sound and silence,
Unity of space.

Monday, 15 March 2021