Archives for category: poetry

Years ago I was so touched by this song. It has since remained filled with significance (since the mid-80’s!) If you know me, I adhere to the notion that for awakening there is no need for a guru or teacher, or even a method (thus the words become so much sweeter when you read and listen to this song). It made such an impression on me and has since served as a kind of prophetic story, right down to a violet color and an awakening in the garden.  So I share this song with you today honoring the return of an old soul from another lifetime, which gives fresh meaning to  this song.

 

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“In The Garden”

The streets are always wet with rain
After a summer shower when I saw you standin’
In the garden in the garden wet with rainYou wiped the teardrops from your eye in sorrow
As we watched the petals fall down to the ground
And as I sat beside you I felt the
Great sadness that day in the garden

And then one day you came back home
You were a creature all in rapture
You had the key to your soul
And you did open that day you came back to the garden

The olden summer breeze was blowin’ on your face
The light of God was shinin’ on your countenance divine
And you were a violet colour as you
Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden

The summer breeze was blowin’ on your face
Within your violet you treasure your summery words
And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine
Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden

And you went into a trance
Your childlike vision became so fine
And we heard the bells inside the church
We loved so much
And felt the presence of the youth of
Eternal summers in the garden

And as it touched your cheeks so lightly
Born again you were and blushed and we touched each other lightly
And we felt the presence of the Christ

And I turned to you and I said
No Guru, no method, no teacher
Just you and I and nature
And the father in the garden

No Guru, no method, no teacher
Just you and I and nature
And the Father and the
Son and the Holy Ghost
In the garden wet with rain
No Guru, no method, no teacher
Just you and I and nature and the holy ghost
In the garden, in the garden, wet with rain
No Guru, no method, no teacher
Just you and I and nature
And the Father in the garden

-Van Morrison

 

 

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In The Garden

 

 

 

 

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sahin-6

Artist: Hüseyin Şahin

 

The lock of the Beloved

curls thrice

gently,

lovingly,

gasping quietly

until she is freed from her deeply chambered place.

 

Years in dream she prepares 

edging closer to you and me
longing across a bridge not yet built,

eying your capable hands.

 

I heard your voice speaking

in events surrounding me

you wrapped me in impossibilities

transforming the mundane

into the profound.

 

You were the essence of the miraculous

and  bid me deeper

so that I might know

finally

what I had been seeking.
Though I might drown

I am drawn deep into your sea…

 

Your waves shook me deep

over and over,

your golden presence

lifted me into light

and bid me enter the chamber

of the bride and the groom

a secret consumated in mystery.

 

My watery self

emerged from new birth
challenged

an old memory

rewritten,
it was…

a resurrection

an inundation

there are no words to contain you…

but you bloom here in my chest

and open me to the grandeur

the same as when life comes to itself

knows itself

and knows what has made it.

 

You undid me

and remade me all at once.

 

I am left having to make new sense of old maps

 

listening to a still-older compass

that whispers at night in dreams

and shakes me to my core;

it is waiting for you” 

and I struggle through the sleep

to find myself on the other side

awake

sahin-8

Artist: Hüseyin Şahin

 

What is the merit of holding on?

 

Fists of your heart

 

clinging since before your birth

 

to what keeps the rush of the real

 

at bay.

 

Just listen to your words

listen to the secret language of your heart

 

feel it deep

 

deep

 

the luscious words are there

like a bubbling spring

 

a creek

a brook

yearning for its ocean tide

 

as was ever-written

 

on this heart of mine

-on all of ours-

 

 

that it is time to just let go.

 

 

“It is such a lonely place!”

that false heart cries

your hands clenched tight

 

where do you think you will ever go?

 

the biggest lie you tell yourself

is never as big as this one

because it was born from the blindness

which will lead you to the blazing light

where nothing can be hidden anymore

 

Where is the merit in what has always been?

Where does the new get born in such a place as this?

 

Just let go…in everything….in all of it….because of it….for it… and be free.

 

You just gotta learn how to set yourself free.

 

 

 

 

What do you think awakening will be?
It will be what you are.
If your life is lived in fear
It will be that fear.
It can be what you choose
you were never a prisoner
or so incapable.
It can be grandeur
and awe can bathe you
clearing shadow
transforming it
into light.
But how you are is what it will be
and your choice is just that powerful.
You can choose to live in ignorance
you can live in the light.
There is no honor nurturing wounds
only in realizing that they were never the biggest and best in you.
A bud blooms in my chest—
nothing else need make any sense but this
the guiding light
the spreading wonder
that this has become.

It can be this and more for you,
and still more…
which is enough.

Let the small love do for now

it leads you to a deeper love
rivulets lead to torrents
and rivers run out to the sea.

Let love lead you
go blind and follow down blind alleys and heart break 
until there is nothing left but a bigger love
which yawns widely
consuming you
taking you into itself
as it shows you it’s bliss
orgasmic,
alive,
eternal,
forever new.

Let the small lead you to its inevitable course,
to flow into the larger
so that you are led into an ever greater love
that no one could imagine exists.
But this love sets up shop
like lovers who are unafraid of making their love 
right in front of you,
in the bathroom
the living room,
the park
temple
and office.
They are there,
unafraid to be within you
wherever you are
going at it
and sharing this sweet orgasmic experience with you.
These two have lost their shame
long ago
and visit us each
as revealer
of how Creation is
beyond our breathing world….

Let it lead you.
It will trick you
until you learn
that it is first inside you
as a creek empties into its river
and fish become platelets 
and water turns to salt 
and salt into wine….

Let it take you
show you
and why it wants you
to follow.

It is not an emotion
but a force of nature
this love.
It is not for a thing
but occupies us
a revealer of our truth
of both our dark and light….
but by being it’s follower,
it’s crazy saddhu,
we are remade by it
and become the consumate lover
of all.
Not for a thing,
we become that love
and become the force we were all along.
It is a crazy crash of a love
that tears down illusion
leaving the eager lips
and consumate heart 
as it’s center
turning ’round endlessly 
wondering what is the point
until we realize
it is in just being it.
By being just that
the noblest truth is owned
not borrowed,
felt to the marrow
no fakery here.
To love because you are love
is the hardest path
because there is nothing else
to turn to—
not anger
or fear
or jealousy
or lies….
because it cannot tolerate anything else but it’s relentless drive to the Center….
Only one great truth remains
and it has hid itself in you
so that your lips last for only that love 
and your heart is aflame for nothing else but it.
Who else can you love then?
The bar raised so high
only the universe can pick the one
when all else is shed
and you wander seemingly alone
in a world filled with lovers who feel it for a thing.

serveimage-8

Do you think that this was going to be easy

this love I bear in you?

Everything else

is like a mad scramble

like the screams of monkey’s in the trees

-it is how the mind is.

 

Sink into forgetfulness

and into the bliss

a warm buoyant presence

rises up all around

it makes others so ripe.

 

So you chase after me

day after day.

I know how hard it can be sometimes

this vagabond life you lead

having given up so much

for nothing else but this one thing

that rings through everything.

Like a vast thread

with no beginning or end,

constantly being thread through a needle

-desire drives it forth.

 

But just as you chase after me,

I turn ’round and chase after you;

mirror and reflection find their union

in a sweet simple embrace

of equal measure of fire and coolness

that breeds the incorruptible beauty

that we all know

but cannot adequately express.

 

I am waiting for you

there

here

under the vast sky of your morning

as you squint into the new day

and I ride under your feet

like a magical carpet

delivering you

reveling in your touch

abiding here as always

with no answer

nor question

but this abiding taste

that lingers on your lips

and bears within the swing of your hips

and sway of your arm…

 

I am here to show you beauty

yes

but not before you dissolve the horror that stands before your face

and that dwells in your heart.

I am here to show you the greatest love there is

it is what I was destined to bear to you since

forever was a child…

but we must work to set it right

so that the beauty of this moment can be known

fully

without reservation

or regret

or doubt

or shame

or sadness…

 

I wrap myself ’round all of these

for you

and it is my mere presence that dissolves them

just as soon as you are ready to let them fall

and transform into the greatness that is in you to be.

 

I know it is hard for you.

I know the strain

the pain

the sadness

the empty void…

but one by one

like soldiers

I redeem them

with the sweetest kind of joy.

You grow from old to young

like a vast wheel turning backwards

until all the strain is wound out of it.

I am here with you until the end

which is only the beginning.

 

I am the force that revives

the one who opens you

and shows you

the flower within

and the great light

that those petals long to touch

arching upward and outward

a great kind of beauty is coaxed…

 

I am beyond names

and beyond all recognition,

the sweetest mystery

that all of you yearn to swim deep into

and become lost in

so that you might be found.

What if…
it all lies beyond your fear
that coiled serpent
of a moment
that goes up in a puff of smoke
turning illusions into real
and returning you to heaven.
What if
the lies you told
were to leap to life
haunting you on your darker nights
pursuing you until you faced them
whilst they turned to doves
full of a forgiving song
as Grace filled you in redemptive wonder
as your heart is given over to truth
not as a thing you would ever dare utter
but to live?
Would it be enough to spend
centuries of earth time in silence?
What if the old stories were mistook
as you were led on journies of folly
for lifetimes even

And what if those stories
were the ones that you wrote 

on the bright sky of memory?
What would you do then?
Would you go looking
lurching
to a fabled promised land?
Or would you find it right where you rest?
What would your heart say?
What if all you ever needed
was held in one sweet breath of a moment
such that nothing else ever felt the same
or could be?
Would this
and more
be enough to undo you
as the tightly bound laces of your
preconception
were loosed in one wild flurry of  forgetting
as all laws and convention
save one 
were cast aside?
What would you do
and who really would you be?

What a night.  I was up late because I fell asleep, but then awoke, momentarily refreshed and unable to call on the deep trance of dream.  Caught between, my mind was a flurry of waking dream images, a vast rumination running on autopilot. Like a psychedelic trip without the disorientation.


 

The Line

Dissolved

Between here

And there

Sleep

And waking

Dream and dreamlessness….

 

This dissolves

It’s a solvent

ripping apart

taking down

those boundaries,

setting in place

A poetry of soul

Self

And bone…

 

So many weep,

holding the remnant masks

grieving

For a nothingness

that came from itself

And dissolves back to its origins.

 

Rejoicing,

The soul rises

to its paradise

lying folded between the leaves

of lost pages

unknown

unseen

until the boundaries fall away

the mountains,

the walls,

the illusory beliefs…

as the book blooms

into a world of sweetened scent

and wonder

for the hidden

now revealed.

 

Your images fleeted through me

(she lay cuddled over him arms tucked in)

The words and sounds

Both of laughter

(She sits up, taking him in)

And wonderment,

Secrets only you knew

(Like a radio star; she received in pulses so fast)

Fleeted through an emptied house…

(Uncertain and dizzy with desire)

as images emerged,

Like a full-on psychedelic experience

Driven by dream

(And desire)

Focused through waking.

 

Strangers moved

Indexed

Stored

Released

As my mind

Balanced between worlds

Watched in wonder

As it all slipped through

My hands

like a great rushing stream.

 

My mind does not know what it means

Nor always to whom it belongs

It all becomes

Noise…

A flurry of images

From personal lives

The soul

Linked into realms of light.

I listened as I heard the peculiarly loud vocalization last night

that sitting here now,

I hear the man next to me chirping out

exactly as it had come

in a time that came backwards

from the way it usually comes.

 

What secrets do any of us think we hold in worlds such as this?

 

But for purposes

I wonder

The chaos of our world

Slipping through the radio of my mind

As the daily broadcast is ruminated

By minds other than my own

As my own can only guess

At the glue that holds them together.

 

The desire

The greatest one

Is what holds it all together

Even as none of it makes sense sometimes.

Sometimes it all just comes so fast

So furiously

Meaning meant for another self inside

While the mind just cannot grasp

Nor should it,

I think.

 

It is what it is

Assigning importance

Robs it of its reality

 

All our masks are lost

I think

To the deep river of time,

and as they do

you too will see as I have seen

as the veil thins

not between worlds

but in the world of the self

which sees all worlds.

From 2010….

 

Shame on you
you dry canals
you fearers of truth
you forbid the very essence of divinity
whilst in the same sentence condemned
and hid
the truth
of our greater being.

Some books
forbidden.
Long since the Master
had come and gone.
Who made you the expert on the divine cosmic
you whose waters were imaginary
entirely fabricated
and guessed?
Liars
fakirs
fearsome of the wholesome truth of your being
you stripped a promising tradition
of its true power
and sent the Master’s words into oblivion.

You hid half the divine under a bushel
but she is emerging
It is time.
Your high morality
imagined,
created,
showed at least
that belief
has its own power
we must be careful of the gods and beliefs we choose
they reinforce each other.

The tide is  turning.
Time to move with the tides.
Your centuries of hate and killing is enough.
Your power was entwined with blindness
your hands bloodied.
It is time to step aside
catch your breath
and consider there is another way.
Let the master in each step forward-
heresy is now the sacred.

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