Your Sweet Dress Is Full Of Now.

[Guest guest]

Your Sweet Dress Is Full Of Now.

 

The daylight arrives in its own time, quite by chance, and a

willing servant of our prayers.

This morning breaks open as sunflower seeds for our souls

to chew upon.

I awake in my New Age and cannot find the rags of

yesterday anywhere.

Morning dresses herself. She has found a nice little number

and calls it ‘here-now.’

Tomorrow has been canceled, only this abiding love, hugs

us to itself jealously.

 

There never was a moment like this one. There never was a

river more clear and happy to flow as sweetly, as this water

whispering rush and wide eyed way of love. You are a

dream boat sailing on a little pond that somehow found

itself running free in an ocean. Please make room for all the

sailors who have lost their way upon a static shore.

 

The calendar has fallen off the wall. All our little love birds

are come home and are roosting in this house called ‘Loves

Awakening.’ Love bells ring in the chime, in the looking

glass moment of this loves resounding. Struck but once, we

all empty out from the little shells of fear, children again.

We sing childish things, reaching for the mothering hand of

this timeless blessing. Not for us the sleepwalking past and

the plotting of future fictions. We have holes in our pockets,

and can no longer hide this universe in times enclosure.

 

We are delayed and on hold, for the dancing of this ageless

quick steeping, two twining love play. Love writes our diary

in this moments dowry. We can see all the way through to

God from here, and it is all there is to see. Love is a sunrise

in every eye. Free hearts are traveling on a wing and a

prayer and don't even care. They are arriving in this instant

empty handed and full of gifts. In all her secret poems Love

has placed her love letters, written in a code of magic

openings, and now posts them merrily to this present

address.

 

The old ways of being, and doing, and seeing, have been

revoked by the pretty little sweetheart that has become our

heart. Someone forgot to tell all the dear religious ones that

their books and temples have been turned into dance halls

for all us wayward, way finding holy rollers, rocking in the

arms of this new dawn. Go tell the world about this fresh

field of daisies that have bloomed in the hair of our love,

and never mind how you say it. Love shall give you words

delivered in time and from this eternal post of you your self.

 

You are the Joy of the Universe,

Form seeded upon abstraction.

The pattern of variance

and the dance of diversity.

Infinite expression, and idiom of delight.

Joy in the wellspring

Love in the fountainhead.

A Universe of Light pours you out

and every breath rebirths you.

You are the fingerprint of Joy,

in the palm of Gods hand.

The world cannot conceal you,

The dream cannot contain you.

Light within Light,

Holiness wedded to Holiness.

Where you are,

the rapturous flare of existence

finds its meaning in Joy.

 

love

 

eric

 

 

 

Copyright 2002. Eric Ashford.

[Guest guest]

Oh dear Gloria,

I am humbled by your praise.

Thank you so much for your kindness.

Words are just words,

but you read your soul in my silly word play.

Yes, they appear from nothing and return to that.

I am filled with delight now!

Love is the only thing going on here.

love

eric

Dearest Eric,

How to thank you for the abundance of beauty you shower on us?

Seldom are such quality and quantity found together. This poetry is

so clearly divinely inspired and given, so may I praise you for the

emptiness to receive it? From your open heart and listening ears grace

flows to us. Thank you for all the poems.

Love,

Gloria

- ErcAshfrd (AT) aol (DOT) com

Harshasatsangh

Friday, March 01, 2002 4:48 AM

Your Sweet Dress Is Full Of Now.

Your Sweet Dress Is Full Of Now.

The daylight arrives in its own time, quite by chance, and a

willing servant of our prayers.

This morning breaks open as sunflower seeds for our souls

to chew upon.

I awake in my New Age and cannot find the rags of

yesterday anywhere.

Morning dresses herself. She has found a nice little number

and calls it ‘here-now.’

Tomorrow has been canceled, only this abiding love, hugs

us to itself jealously. /join

 

All paths go somewhere. No path goes nowhere. Paths, places, sights,

perceptions, and indeed all experiences arise from and exist in and

subside back into the Space of Awareness. Like waves rising are not

different than the ocean, all things arising from Awareness are of

the nature of Awareness. Awareness does not come and go but is always

Present. It is Home. Home is where the Heart Is. Jnanis know the Heart

to be the Finality of Eternal Being. A true devotee relishes in the

Truth of Self-Knowledge, spontaneously arising from within into It

Self. Welcome all to a.

 

[Guest guest]

Dearest Eric,

How to thank you for the abundance of beauty you shower on us?

Seldom are such quality and quantity found together. This poetry is

so clearly divinely inspired and given, so may I praise you for the

emptiness to receive it? From your open heart and listening ears grace

flows to us. Thank you for all the poems.

Love,

Gloria

- ErcAshfrd (AT) aol (DOT) com

Harshasatsangh

Friday, March 01, 2002 4:48 AM

Your Sweet Dress Is Full Of Now.

Your Sweet Dress Is Full Of Now.The daylight arrives in its own time,

quite by chance, and awilling servant of our prayers.This morning

breaks open as sunflower seeds for our soulsto chew upon. I awake in

my New Age and cannot find the rags ofyesterday anywhere. Morning

dresses herself. She has found a nice little numberand calls it

‘here-now.’ Tomorrow has been canceled, only this abiding love,

hugsus to itself jealously.