Tuesday, 23 March 2021
Monday, 15 March 2021
Saturday, 13 March 2021
Thursday, 11 March 2021
Thursday, 4 March 2021
How far we walk
To arrive still here—
The impenetrable distance,
The immeasurable motion—
The spherical reality
And the cessation of time—
The silent chaos
And the life sharing laughter.
|The Singular Ground No.1 - 2021|
Friday, 26 February 2021
Saturday, 13 February 2021
The quiet flurries of snow descended across
Only visible while passing in front
Of dark yet muted evergreens
Standing stoically in the snow.
The chill outside was felt inside
Notwithstanding the sweat-bearing windows
And the trembling heater in service.
Just as the cold was felt within,
So too were past experiences reflected inside,
Their factual intensity diminished over time
And their clarity impeded by the accrual of more.
The seagulls carving through the air from tree to tree,
Swooping and curving in graceful lines,
Were in fact playing in the falling snow.
The intellect of man, clever in its nature,
Serves the self but how dangerous to follow
Its command when not infused by the spring dawn.
Tuesday, 2 February 2021
Looking out onto Space
An unfathomable distance
The absolute darkness,
The blindness seen
Alone with a candle
Piercing darkness with light
The boundless chasm
Accepting the glow
In unwanting quiet—
Looking down at my hands
In flickering hues
The truth of the flame,
Its mark it made.
The warmth was felt
By source so near
And eyes rejoiced
At sights so clear.
Still deeper yet
The gratitude lay
The darkness speaking
Not to the ears
But in silent being
Its language conveyed.
Received by same (inside myself)
The pervasive noir—
The inexhaustible field
Of unyielding birth
Without time nor object
Without distance nor wait—
Behold the unfathomable
Bounty of blackness,
Our humble flame,
Could not live,
Nor so the day
Be born anew
In endless cycles
Of life renewed.
Saturday, 30 January 2021
|Non-Local Movement No.1 - 2018|
The beauty of movement caught by the silent eye of the observer,
Watching, accepting, allowing, receiving.
In stillness, the eye is open with the fire of attention,
Which burns invisibly leaving the container yet to be filled—
Never filled, always open and empty, receiving
The flowing contents of interrelated parts—
Inconceivable to the discerning system.
The eye is not separate from the vast stream
Entering. The eye breathes with blood,
And in its wholeness, outpours a polar opposite—
Spinning together, intermingling with all other actions
Never ceasing, the cosmic dance of infinite pieces
goes on into the night.
The moonlight is on the gurgling brook.
Sunday, 17 January 2021
Friday, 8 January 2021