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An Old Musician - Hafiz - A New Poem - Zenbob.

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I hear the voice of my beloved in every caressing breeze

I feel the touch of my love whenever I bathe in ocean or stream

I sense the loving presence when atop high mountains or in the deepest lush valley

With every step and every thought should I think to find my love

There! There! In every corner, on every wing

The loving one sings to me...

I am wrapped in this love that never fades

>From sunrise to sunset, under every brilliant constellation

In every land, both familiar and strange, in every nation

I find my love gazing at me with eyes of every description

And if I simply let my efforts part and breathe in the air

There! There! My beloved is there...

Eternal, always new and always unchanging

The first taste of life

And the endless kiss Of the Divine.

--Zenbob

June 2002

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Yes, darling bob zany zen man,

this is it!

Can you dig it deep?

Love is the question and the answer.

Love you my brother

love

eric

Love that Daniel Landinsky...

I hear the voice of my beloved in every caressing breeze

I feel the touch of my love whenever I bathe in ocean or stream

I sense the loving presence when atop high mountains or in the deepest lush valley

With every step and every thought should I think to find my love

There! There! In every corner, on every wing

The loving one sings to me...

I am wrapped in this love that never fades

>From sunrise to sunset, under every brilliant constellation

In every land, both familiar and strange, in every nation

I find my love gazing at me with eyes of every description

And if I simply let my efforts part and breathe in the air

There! There! My beloved is there...

Eternal, always new and always unchanging

The first taste of life

And the endless kiss

Of the Divine.

--Zenbob

June 2002

/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.

 

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And how can I repay you my dearest Robert?

How to tell where our hearts join?

If there is a seam

let me unsew it with my tears

that unthread the seamless in our dreams.

It is not enough to simply say- I am you.

We must drown in each others love

and so we learn to be the water

of this love in the heart of an amazing trust

that becomes our Self of only love.

Your eric and your heart.

love

>I find my love gazing at me with eyes of every description

And if I simply let my efforts part and breathe in the air

There! There! My beloved is there...

It has been said that

all we really want is to be

free of wanting, but perhaps

it might also be said that

all we really want is to

love and be loved.

This yearning for deep intimacy is

at the heart of all, in this and any

possible worlds as well.

Everything is only seeking,

as if Love is only seeking for Itself.

Nothing is truly immune to Love.

Mystery begets Love for the sake of

Its own Enjoyment, expressed as the infinite

forms of you and I and everything.

It is the simple innocent truth of our being,

prior to any kind of superimposed knowing.

I love you, and I am here -

my heart and hand inextricably

joined with yours.

The illusion of separation is

just that.

After all, if now is only,

what destiny is there than

awakening to the heart of all,

and all within the heart,

right now, as Love?

Love always exceeds any conceptions

we can muster about time and space.

Perhaps some might be able to imagine

going to some other place or state in time

where everything is going to be resolved

according to some image we might have of

something in any need of resolution,

but that's still in the field of the imagination.

What remains when the imagination is

Outshone by What Is?

All we have and are is

what's here, now --

this is everything,

this is all the worlds,

appearing and disappearing

simultaneous with ourself.

This is the Divine Realm, from

Which we have never been divided.

How could we ever have believed

It to be other than our own

Present Perfection?

If this is so,

how then shall we love, and

what game shall we play today,

Beloved?

LoveAlways,

b

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Darling Robert,

How I am a flowing for you.

I am a touch upon the banks of eternity.

Who said that I am only me, only you?

I am the wind in the willows

that sighs for every kiss.

See how my boat

is becalmed in the peace pool of your whirlpool!

See how my eddy surrenders to your silence.

If I have a wave of my self

it is the current of a deeper love

that nudges my vessel into our mooring

where only the sound of God sighing

is our touch whispered into love.

love

eric

>We must drown in each others love

and so we learn to be the water

of this love in the heart of an amazing trust

that becomes our Self of only love.

once there was a sense of a new day

now there is one day

Your day

once there were many moments

now only one

one moment

no beginning to this moment

no end

within this there is

the parade

the procession of perceptions

each with their own beginnings

endings, languages of

straight and squiggly lines

cast across the surface of water

always water –

water of life

watery canvas of shifting light

never the same,

always as is

welcoming equally

light and darkness

infinite variations of

shine and shadow

birth and death

all life

always life

restless surface

silent depth

irresistible depth

bottomless embrace

dying daily to this depth

this endless moment of life

waterfall of feeling

falling into itself

its depth

its silence

just as is,

always as is

no shore

no embarking or arrival

always just arriving

a moment too late

a journey in a dream

river in time

watery destination

the destination of liquidity,

mid-air at the waterfall:

drops of elemental being,

flowing unity

bursting into billion

momentary gleaming

tiny fleeting voices

roaring life

pouring life into life

receiving itself

welcoming itself into itself

perpetually

just as is,

always as is

nothing bound

nothing loosed

timeless flow in a dream of water,

a dream of shine and shadow

flowing into each other

dissembling and assembling

disintegrating and reintegrating

beyond any comprehension

beyond any narrative description

any motive or goal or passion or prescription

but just as is,

always as is

yes, and here

along the banks of this river of myself

i stagger, intoxicated by the wine of

my own watery being, this life of waves

rippling over stillness

the still pool of heart

within which feeling breathes

so quietly, so potently

the tears you witness

welling up from this depth –

just as is,

always as is

LoveAlways,

b

------------------------ Sponsor ---------------------~-->

Free $5 Love Reading

Risk Free!

Click Here!

---~->

/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.

Your use of is subject to

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And the sweet bell rings

for nothing sings without this love.

We are a turtle dove

and a transcendent white,

so white spreading dove wing

that covers our holy spirit.

See how the moon drops her veils to wink at your beauty.

She has said her prayers,

and now only prays for lovers

to steal her heart away from the form of God.

The snow drops have caught fire

in the frost that sought to kill them.

The wolves are birthing lambs

and ask us questions.

No one has an answer but love.

love

eric

>Who said that I am only me, only you?

Sometimes I affirm.

Sometimes I deny.

Sometimes I neither

affirm nor deny.

Sometimes I affirm

and deny

simultaneously.

I am Life –

a paradox to the

certainty-seeking mind, but

never to the heart

enraptured by Love.

To such a heart, I

Am unaccountable Joy.

Friends,

I am a fool.

I am a drop-out from the

holy saint school.

I am dried-out doggie drool.

I am a stepping stool,

a useless tool,

the golden rule,

a cool pool behind your

eye wool.

No, Yes –

who can see:

I am my Beloved,

my Beloved is Me!

I whisper to my Mashuq:

"Here, my Darling –

let me pierce Your Lips with

this tongue, this tongue that's only

made to roll with Yours in the

BlissKissing Dance of tongue with

tongue, light mingling with light

Deliciously!

Yes, No –

we won't tell:

we've slipped through the crack

in the Liberty Bell!"

LoveAlways,

b

------------------------ Sponsor ---------------------~-->

Free $5 Love Reading

Risk Free!

Click Here!

---~->

/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.

Your use of is subject to

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Guest guest

And so it is,

and so it is.

See how the moon pales in her desire

to disappear into the sun of love?

 

love

 

eric

 

 

, ErcAshfrd@a... wrote:

>See how the moon drops her veils to wink at your beauty.

She has said her prayers,

and now only prays for lovers

to steal her heart away from the form of God.

 

 

 

Friends,

wander out of your room tonight and

let your puzzled eyes lift

skyways.

This moon ablaze will

answer any questions.

 

Many hidden friends are

silently illumined

by this kind Lover's glance –

perhaps some ones who were

forsaken, who could use

a second chance.

 

 

If you're feeling lonesome, it is not

the fault of this moon!

And yet, this moon

can be a secret if

you've closed the window

to your heart.

 

Still, it will quietly

meander through the cage

of your ribs, while

your thoughts are imprisoned

elsewhere.

 

 

Either way, words come

to an end

right

here.

 

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b

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, zen2wrk@a... wrote:

>I find my love gazing at me with eyes of every description

And if I simply let my efforts part and breathe in the air

There! There! My beloved is there...

 

 

 

It has been said that

all we really want is to be

free of wanting, but perhaps

it might also be said that

all we really want is to

love and be loved.

 

This yearning for deep intimacy is

at the heart of all, in this and any

possible worlds as well.

 

Everything is only seeking,

as if Love is only seeking for Itself.

 

Nothing is truly immune to Love.

 

Mystery begets Love for the sake of

Its own Enjoyment, expressed as the infinite

forms of you and I and everything.

 

It is the simple innocent truth of our being,

prior to any kind of superimposed knowing.

 

I love you, and I am here -

my heart and hand inextricably

joined with yours.

 

The illusion of separation is

just that.

 

After all, if now is only,

what destiny is there than

awakening to the heart of all,

and all within the heart,

right now, as Love?

 

Love always exceeds any conceptions

we can muster about time and space.

 

Perhaps some might be able to imagine

going to some other place or state in time

where everything is going to be resolved

according to some image we might have of

something in any need of resolution,

but that's still in the field of the imagination.

 

What remains when the imagination is

Outshone by What Is?

 

All we have and are is

what's here, now --

this is everything,

this is all the worlds,

appearing and disappearing

simultaneous with ourself.

 

This is the Divine Realm, from

Which we have never been divided.

 

How could we ever have believed

It to be other than our own

Present Perfection?

 

If this is so,

how then shall we love, and

 

what game shall we play today,

Beloved?

 

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b

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Guest guest

, ErcAshfrd@a... wrote:

>We must drown in each others love

and so we learn to be the water

of this love in the heart of an amazing trust

that becomes our Self of only love.

 

 

 

 

 

once there was a sense of a new day

now there is one day

Your day

once there were many moments

now only one

one moment

no beginning to this moment

no end

within this there is

the parade

the procession of perceptions

each with their own beginnings

endings, languages of

straight and squiggly lines

cast across the surface of water

always water –

water of life

watery canvas of shifting light

never the same,

always as is

welcoming equally

light and darkness

infinite variations of

shine and shadow

birth and death

all life

always life

restless surface

silent depth

irresistible depth

bottomless embrace

dying daily to this depth

this endless moment of life

waterfall of feeling

falling into itself

its depth

its silence

just as is,

always as is

 

no shore

no embarking or arrival

always just arriving

a moment too late

a journey in a dream

river in time

watery destination

the destination of liquidity,

mid-air at the waterfall:

drops of elemental being,

flowing unity

bursting into billion

momentary gleaming

tiny fleeting voices

roaring life

pouring life into life

receiving itself

welcoming itself into itself

perpetually

just as is,

always as is

 

nothing bound

nothing loosed

timeless flow in a dream of water,

a dream of shine and shadow

flowing into each other

dissembling and assembling

disintegrating and reintegrating

beyond any comprehension

beyond any narrative description

any motive or goal or passion or prescription

but just as is,

always as is

 

yes, and here

along the banks of this river of myself

i stagger, intoxicated by the wine of

my own watery being, this life of waves

rippling over stillness

the still pool of heart

within which feeling breathes

so quietly, so potently

 

the tears you witness

welling up from this depth –

just as is,

always as is

 

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b

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Guest guest

, ErcAshfrd@a... wrote:

>Who said that I am only me, only you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes I affirm.

Sometimes I deny.

Sometimes I neither

affirm nor deny.

Sometimes I affirm

and deny

simultaneously.

I am Life –

a paradox to the

certainty-seeking mind, but

never to the heart

enraptured by Love.

To such a heart, I

Am unaccountable Joy.

 

Friends,

I am a fool.

I am a drop-out from the

holy saint school.

I am dried-out doggie drool.

I am a stepping stool,

a useless tool,

the golden rule,

a cool pool behind your

eye wool.

 

No, Yes –

who can see:

 

I am my Beloved,

my Beloved is Me!

 

I say to my Mashuq:

"Here, my Darling –

let me pierce Your Lips with

this tongue, this tongue that's only

made to roll with Yours in the

BlissKissing Dance of tongue with

tongue, light mingling with light

Deliciously!

 

Yes, No –

we won't tell:

 

we've slipped through the crack

in the Liberty Bell!"

 

Let Freedom Ring!

Let Freedom Sing!

We've nothing to do

with any such thing!

 

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b

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Guest guest

, ErcAshfrd@a... wrote:

>See how the moon drops her veils to wink at your beauty.

She has said her prayers,

and now only prays for lovers

to steal her heart away from the form of God.

 

 

 

Friends,

wander out of your room tonight and

let your puzzled eyes lift

skyways.

This moon ablaze will

answer any questions.

 

Many hidden friends are

silently illumined

by this kind Lover's glance –

perhaps some ones who were

forsaken, who could use

a second chance.

 

 

If you're feeling lonesome, it is not

the fault of this moon!

And yet, this moon

can be a secret if

you've closed the window

to your heart.

 

Still, it will quietly

meander through the cage

of your ribs, while

your thoughts are imprisoned

elsewhere.

 

 

Either way, words come

to an end

right

here.

 

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b

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Guest guest

, ErcAshfrd@a... wrote:

>And so it is,

and so it is.

See how the moon pales in her desire

to disappear into the sun of love?

 

 

 

 

Tonight

 

 

Nothing makes a difference.

 

Perhaps it always has.

 

Blown along the cold coast of reason

the breeze is stepping down now

to a softer part of the feeling, is warm

on the tip of my eye I am keeping

like a lover on this moon.

 

This moon!

 

Her naked radiance

blatant and unashamed

blasts the billion

tiny mirrors studded diamond-like

within my cells, now all ablaze

with urgent whitelight moonshine!

 

Some feeble fog has slipped between us,

as far from my nose as it is

to your toes,

and we are tempted to the old debate:

Are the stars moving, or

are we? Famished

I devour this mist and drink

my tears.

Do not matter that I am

shedding these poor particular tears.

They are drooped, justified.

Mystified, but also needing

air.

 

Talking breeds

its own dilemmas

but we employ no proper names, nodding

to ourselves in that sweet redundancy

ancient loving brings.

Those ashen masks were shed

like tears away

in the far ghost lands that

even now shimmer and evaporate in memory.

 

Tonight is the kind of night that -

everyone is always wishing you goodnight -

well…

It finally is.

A time of things falling

from trees and dogs

fart in fear, but we don't

budge.

 

These falling things have never mattered much to us.

 

There are no sins

of omission here.

I am not the kind who breaks things

down, nor have I really taken

to the mathematics of the spheres,

but I can see

how someone might.

It all adds up,

my bored and fascinated dears.

 

My ears

are cast like limbs of trees

attendant only to the sad

tiny melodies

barely audible

echoing from within

the tear you have grown to warm your eye.

 

You ask:

 

"Suppose you waking up replied –

today no saint,

tonight no suicide.

 

Would you be surprised?"

 

I answer:

 

As the story goes so too was she

ripped off away to the palace of ashes,

her heart a heap of ashes.

 

Be seated, sentenced to ashes,

and pushing them about as in

an ashtray trying

various designs of things

with these many ashes

she alas became herself

so ashen.

 

At last, and at least

in her own eyes

the ashen configurations

began to blossom wondrously –

due no doubt to the speck of ash

which clinging cluttered up her dry eye.

 

Even so, despite the fine and fancy

elegance of symbols

she would mold the mounds of ashes into,

the final word she could not frame

until of course she

glimpsed this moon

and crying hot tears dissolved

the ashes of her eyes

till she with sight could

see and sing with glee!

 

 

It's nice

you know

Just sitting

Here, the fire by

 

blue-smoking the moon

perpetually

 

roasting the cinders

of cruel intelligibility

 

listening carefully

with unconcealed delight as

four times twenty-seven hairs go

growing past your ears

 

my Friend

 

tonight

 

 

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b

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