silver-lined clouds & hokey cliches work sometimes

[Guest guest]

Outside again,

finding myself wandering

under the big bright sky

and egg-blue roundness

all around me,

the circling center

such a darker blueness

bluing into You blueing

into Me blueing into Blood,

A real blue-blooded Lover

the Sky and i,

with our scattered cloud children

whiting outand wisping away

with whispered kisses,

widening into wider circles

of why i Love You so.

These scattering clouds

shudder in me, shiver-river in me,

striking silver linings

into cosmic cracklings,

and my life is a cloud

with such a sliver

of Silver-tongued Love lining.

It's like a sticky syrup

slowly flowing-glowing-raining

all inside my Heart.

Don't you think that spear

that pierced

the Heart of Saint Teresa,

so well-captured by Bernini,

fondled into marble essence,

was Rumi-Red-Love-tipped,

really golden-tipped

with Love of Christ

and His Honey-Ochered Kiss?

By blessed agony of Love

Its bliss of union

of being pierced

and thrust through and through

and we are the thrust

the spear Itself

the Agony and Glory

the Ecstasy and sundered Underness,

and the Ever-Blessedness

of Awe and Eyes on God,

Eyes of God

on every Heart

and Having It,

Love Having Its way

with broken-open,

shattered, broken vessels,

a clay bowl thrown in the Ocean,

a paper flower tossed in the fire,

Be Just the Hand held out

and clasping You,

openly offering Up,

holding a Lotus Blossom in the palm,

the palm a pond and sky reflecing,

and even Now, even Now,

as i reflect on all of this,

i only want to say your name,

say your name...

Beloved,

Beautiful One,

Beloved, Beloved,

Beautiful Darling.

 

 

Love,

Mazie

 

_______________

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[Guest guest]

, "Mazie Lane" <sraddha54@h...> wrote:

 

as i reflect on all of this,

i only want to say your name,

say your name...

 

 

 

Don't say that I will depart tomorrow--

even today I am still arriving.

 

Look deeply: every second I am arriving

to be a bud on a Spring branch,

to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,

learning to sing in my new nest,

to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,

to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

 

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,

to fear and to hope.

The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death

of all that is alive.

 

I am a mayfly metamorphosing

on the surface of the river.

And I am the bird

that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

 

I am a frog swimming happily

in the clear water of a pond.

And I am the grass-snake

that silently feeds itself on the frog.

 

I am the child in Ethiopia, all skin and bones,

my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.

And I am the arms merchant,

selling deadly weapons to Ethiopia.

 

I am the twelve-year old girl,

refugee on a small boat,

who throws herself into the ocean

after being raped by a sea pirate.

And I am the pirate,

my heart not yet capable

of seeing and loving.

 

I am a member of the politburo,

with plenty of power in my hands.

And I am the man who has to pay

his "debt of blood" to my people

dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.

 

My joy is like Spring, so warm

it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.

My pain is like a river of tears,

so vast it fills the four oceans.

 

Please call me by my true names,

so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once,

so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

 

Please call me by my true names,

so I can wake up

and the door of my heart

could be left open,

the door of compassion.

 

~Thich Nhat Hanh

[Guest guest]

I love Thich Nhat Hanh's work. That piece is one of my favourites.

 

sometimes i think the highest state is a seemingly low one. Standing on

the ground on two feet, with two eyes looking forward, neither woozied

into bliss or deadened into sorrow.

 

Moving forward from the stillpoint that is the motion-point of wisdom and

compassion working totally together.

 

or the last Zen ox-herding picture, standing in the marketplace two hands

open asking 'How may I help you?'.

 

maitri,

 

--dao/janpa tsomo