My Mashuq Is a Mystery Unfolding

[Guest guest]

, "mazie_l" <sraddha54@h...> wrote:

> We burn in Love and we burn for Love

 

 

 

 

 

Late summer's eve, and wine-dark

dusk emerges earlier now, as if

the shadows have always lingered

just behind the façade of light,

patiently biding their time,

confident that the inevitable procession of the

planet will favor them once more,

full of the promise of pinpoint starlight

birthing and fading within the vast ocean of

mute darkness, silent eternal night,

and by the lake the mosquito swarms have thickened,

tiny beings dizzy with desire,

clueless in philosophies of birth and death,

drawn by some anciently encoded impulse to the

ecstasy of evening, life feeding upon life,

drinking deeply of itself, intoxicated with the simplicity of

innocent desire, the search and satisfaction, and then the

search once more, in never ending cycles of urgent humming

yearning, yearning beyond comprehension,

free of any doubt or question, in absolute submission to

that which beats their wings, their hearts, that

pushes their blood to seek more blood, and

blinds them to the swift approach of

the devouring dragonfly.

 

The wind,

momentarily respectful of the vanishing light,

once more gathers itself to push between the

temporary leaves of the darkening trees,

flowing freely, filled with songs few ever hear,

spilling rough sinewy kisses along the branches which

extend their reach to express the same force which

births the wind, whirling insects, wheeling star shine, and

the wonder of worlds upon worlds of fervent endless mindless

yearning – the same force whispering through every beat of

every heart right now, every breath, every brilliant

unbearably beautiful body of life.

 

Being pauses in the midst of Itself to contemplate

Itself as You and I. We have wandered along this path

with no idea of its beginning nor conception of its end.

First bewildered, then amazed, we stagger in a daze of

Delight, fitted to each other as the water to the lake, the lake

we circumnabulate in the darkness of our Loving, reflecting

a mysterious Light unborn in space and inextinguishable in time.

Any man or moth would give its eyes for but a flashing glimpse of

such a Light, but it cannot be seen with the eyes in the head.

Eyes can see, but not themselves, and so we name this Light

"The Mysterious Unseen", for we are loving even words, this night

now cloaked in the darkened silken garment of the Light.

 

This Loving Light has broken our tongue to pieces, little fragments

skittering off on feet of poetry and winking whispers, colluding with

the nights' vague shapes that seem to swirl around our ankles

in a kind of dancing rapture even sufis dream to imitate.

We smile, then burst into the laughter of children re-born

in the unconditional embrace of each other for Itself.

We could never have enough of this Kissing, this

Light burning, blazing in the heart of a

late summer's eve, tonight.

[Guest guest]

, "hrtbeat7" <hrtbeat7> wrote:

, "mazie_l" <sraddha54@h...> wrote:

 

We burn in Love and we burn for Love

 

 

Late summer's eve, and wine-dark

dusk emerges earlier now, as if

the shadows have always lingered

just behind the façade of light,

patiently biding their time,

confident that the inevitable procession of the

planet will favor them once more,

full of the promise of pinpoint starlight

birthing and fading within the vast ocean of

mute darkness, silent eternal night...

 

 

 

...."I placed one foot on the wide plain

of death, and some grand

immensity sounded on the emptiness.

 

I have felt nothing ever

like that wild wonder of that moment."

 

 

"This is the night of union when the stars

scatter their rice over us...

 

This is a holiday we've

been waiting for. It is finally time to

 

sacrifice Taurus and learn how the sky is

a lens to look through. Listen to what's

 

inside what I say. Shams will appear at

dawn; then even night will change from

 

its beloved animated darkness to a day

within this ordinary sweet daylight."

 

 

 

 

and by the lake the mosquito swarms have thickened,

tiny beings dizzy with desire,

clueless in philosophies of birth and death,

drawn by some anciently encoded impulse to the

ecstasy of evening, life feeding upon life,

drinking deeply of itself, intoxicated with the simplicity of

innocent desire, the search and satisfaction, and then the

search once more, in never ending cycles of urgent humming

yearning, yearning beyond comprehension,

free of any doubt or question, in absolute submission to

that which beats their wings, their hearts, that

pushes their blood to seek more blood, and

blinds them to the swift approach of

the devouring dragonfly.

 

 

 

...."Whatever gives pleasure is the fragrance

of the Friend. Whatever makes us wonder

 

comes from that light. What's inside the

ground begins to sprout because you spilled

 

wine there. What dies in autumn comes up

in spring because this way of saying no

 

becomes in spring your praise-song yes."

 

 

"Longing is the core of mystery.

Longing itself brings the cure.

The only rule is, suffer the pain.

 

Your desire must be disciplined,

and what you want to happen

in time, sacrificed."

 

 

 

The wind,

momentarily respectful of the vanishing light,

once more gathers itself to push between the

temporary leaves of the darkening trees,

flowing freely, filled with songs few ever hear,

spilling rough sinewy kisses along the branches which

extend their reach to express the same force which

births the wind, whirling insects, wheeling star shine, and

the wonder of worlds upon worlds of fervent endless mindless

yearning – the same force whispering through every beat of

every heart right now, every breath, every brilliant

unbearably beautiful body of life.

 

 

 

...."There is a sun-star rising outside form.

I am lost in that other. Its sweet not

 

to look at two worlds, to melt in meaning

as honey melts in milk. No one tires of

 

following the soul. I don't recall now what

happens on the manifest plane. I stroll

 

with those I have always wanted to know,

fresh and graceful as a waterlily, or a rose.

 

The body is a boat; I am waves swaying against

it. Whenever it anchors somewhere, I smash

 

it loose, or smash it to pieces. If I get

lazy and cold, flames come from my ocean and

 

surround me. I laugh inside them like gold

purifying itself. A certain melody makes

 

the snake put his head down on a line in

the dirt....Here is my head, brother: What

 

next! Weary of form, I come into qualities.

Each says, 'I am a blue-green sea. Dive

 

into me!' I am Alexander at the outermost

extension of empire, turning all my armies

 

in toward the meaning of armies, Shams."

 

 

 

 

Being pauses in the midst of Itself to contemplate

Itself as You and I. We have wandered along this path

with no idea of its beginning nor conception of its end.

First bewildered, then amazed, we stagger in a daze of

Delight, fitted to each other as the water to the lake, the lake

we circumnabulate in the darkness of our Loving, reflecting

a mysterious Light unborn in space and inextinguishable in time.

Any man or moth would give its eyes for but a flashing glimpse of

such a Light, but it cannot be seen with the eyes in the head.

Eyes can see, but not themselves, and so we name this Light

"The Mysterious Unseen", for we are loving even words, this night

now cloaked in the darkened silken garment of the Light.

 

 

 

...."Last night things flowed between us

that cannot now be said or written.

 

Only as I'm being carried out

and down the road, as the folds

of my shroud open in the wind,

 

will anyone be able to read, as on

that petal pages of a turning bud,

what passed through us last night."

 

 

"I flow through human beings.

Love is my only companion. When union

 

happens, my speech goes inside toward

Shams. At that meeting all the secrets

 

of language will no longer be secret."

 

 

 

 

This Loving Light has broken our tongue to pieces, little fragments

skittering off on feet of poetry and winking whispers, colluding with

the nights' vague shapes that seem to swirl around our ankles

in a kind of dancing rapture even sufis dream to imitate.

We smile, then burst into the laughter of children re-born

in the unconditional embrace of each other for Itself.

We could never have enough of this Kissing, this

Light burning, blazing in the heart of a

late summer's eve, tonight.

 

 

...."When you come back inside my chest,

no matter how far I've wandered off,

I look around and see the way.

 

At the end of my life, with just one breath

left, if you come then, I'll sit up and sing."

 

~Rumi~

 

 

Mu Bai:

Shu Lien...

 

Shu Lien:

Save your strength.

 

Mu Bai:

My life is departing.

I've only one breath left.

 

Shu Lien:

Use it to meditate.

Free yourself from this world as you have been taught.

Let your soul rise to Eternity with your last breath.

Don't waste it on me.

 

Mu Bai:

I've already wasted my whole life.

I want to tell you with my last breath...

I have always loved you.

 

I'd rather be a ghost, drifting by your side...

as a condemned soul...

than enter Heaven without you.

Because of your Love, I will never be a lonely spirit."

 

 

"A faithful heart makes wishes come true."

 

"Make a wish, Lo..."

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

Mazie

[Guest guest]

, "mazie_l" <sraddha54@h...> wrote:

>Whatever gives pleasure is the fragrance

of the Friend.

 

 

Love of the Friend is the Grace of the Friend.

Love of the Friend ignites, supersedes, embraces, and

illuminates all other love.

Love is the lovely issue of Love, the Mother of

the radiant Children of Love,

the seed and womb and birth of Love, and

there is nothing in the Presence of Love

that is not the perfect manifestation of Love.

I bow down again and again to this Gift of Love, for

it is the food that sustains me, the breath that breathes me,

the light that awakens me, the wound that remains so that all may

share in the sight of the Wonder of Love made flesh that I Am.

Yes, for the Beloved has opened me to that very swoon of unspeakable

Heart in which I recognize myself as Love, and only for the sake of

Love am I alive - Alive in the Queen, the Beloved One, Who placed

her Kiss upon my crown, that I might remember That Which lives me,

from the top of my head to the happy feet that have waltzed me into

the Shine of Love! Love never comes here for Herself, except that

She is always only That for which She comes -- That Love which Plays

in the Fields of Love, submerged and yet revealed in countless

ordinary forms of Love, the shining miracle mirror of Love

reflecting only Herself in Love.

All form is but the dress of Love, the beautiful random design of

Love, and for any who think they can handle Love, the innocent naked

delight of Love, the shatter, slash, and sword of Love, let all of

them who cling to reason,

stop right now and simply listen -

 

The ultimate demonstration is:

 

the Teaching of Love is the Being of Love!

 

Yes! It Is!

Yes! It Is!

 

When we die in Love we arise in Love!

 

There is nothing we can withhold from Love!

 

Having shared a taste of Love,

let's deliriously be devoured by Love!

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b