Has His Storm Come to Drench Us?

[Guest guest]

I awoke this morning to a deep low fog, filtering the dawn through the

many oak trees dotting the landscape, as the roosters and peafowl gave

voice to the day (and unless you have heard a covey of peafowl

calling, you really cannot imagine such voices!) and read your words.

All was one great harmony.

How lovely, how ephemeral and timeless all at once.

I thank you for giving thought to my day, as the birds gave it music

and the light brings awakening and life.

Blessings,

Zenbob

Attachment: (image/jpeg) ChicksMrsP.jpg [not stored]

[Guest guest]

We are conversing in real-time...seems like.

Love Always,

Zenbob

[Guest guest]

"I have known pigeons who fly in a nowhere,

and birds that eat grainlessness,

 

and tailors who sew beautiful clothes

by tearing them to pieces."

 

~Rumi

 

 

Some Silent,

Unmoving Wind

has sent a gentle rain,

but really,

it's a Wind-Swept Rain

of being broken

and shattered

and battered by Life.

 

Left scattered

like amber, autumn leaves

of forgetfulness of Love,

forgetfulness

of the One Who Loves us,

along the Heart line

and the Life line

of the Palm-Outstretched

in Blessing,

an Endless Blessing

is being Traced

by the Finger of the One,

by the Flesh of Flaming Icebergs,

by the Flesh of Frozen, Cryogenic

Rising Oil Fires,

by the Flesh of Original Desire.

 

O! Beloved!

i can only be

the familiar reading

upon the opened-out Heart

of every lover

ever born

and who ever died,

or who will ever

be born,

and be born

to quietly,

and nearly imperceptively

give into Dying to Death.

 

Take your last Breath!

Breathe

your First Breath.

Ever!

Ever, Yes, ever ever ever!

And so Forever

in the Eternity of Love

Breaking into the Heart,

we are Inundated

by the Waterfall Falling

into our OneHeart.

 

Like some zephyr of the Essence,

the Essence

of All Fragrance,

including the Scent

of freedom,

 

and the Scent

of pain and hurt,

 

and the Scent

of lying and denial,

 

and the Scent

of tenderness

and kind,

endearing gestures,

 

and the very Scent

of the Beautiful.

 

Oh! My Darling-Hearted Mashuq!

So very Beautiful -

Beloved's Living Breath,

Breathing into me

and leaving HimSelf there.

 

So subtle

it might be missed

by the many world-imbibers,

we are offered an elixer,

a potion

which will bring It In.

 

Love Is quelling

by deeply dwelling,

and so intimately,

in the apparent opposites:

 

The desire

to stay aloof,

to stay beyond reproof,

to always demand a roof

over out heads,

over our hearts, too.

 

And oh!

So unfortunate this,

this missing of the Kiss

that is always at the ready

to transform anything

into everything,

and everything

into nothing!

 

There's just this hitch,

a tiny glitch

in the Perfect Program

ever put forth from,

and for another.

 

It's what God wants,

and what God wants,

God gets!

 

In time,

 

He always gets

the loners,

 

He always gets

the stone throwers,

 

He always gets

the myth de-boners.

 

He always gets

to dethrone every false king

sitting on our center of Poise

disquised as enlightenment.

 

And the enlightenment!

It appears so filled

with All of the right answers!

 

But there is no question!

There is never a need

for an Answer,

divine or otherwise.

 

Beloved is a Storm of Knowing.

Knowing As Knowing,

that we are just the mist

being Kissed into a Waterfall

falling across

the Formless Face,

 

the Facade of pretense,

 

and defense,

 

and lack of common sense,

 

and eating hotel mints

 

that were meant

for the Beloved room-mate

mating the Gateless gate,

much like a heated dog

going whole hog for Love.

 

Be that Heat!

Be that falling facade

of emptiness.

 

Be that common sense

being sent

right into and from

the Original Sender.

 

Be that eater being Eaten

by the Holy Mouth

 

of every sage,

 

of every saint,

 

of every sadhu,

 

of every avatar, and then,

 

Go further,

go further,

go deeper

into the Being

 

of every sinner,

 

of every mink skinner,

 

of every lotto winner,

 

of every eaten dinner,

and every dinner not eaten.

 

Standing in the Core

of This Awe,

and this Bewildered

Bewilderment,

 

a Storm of great proportion,

proportionally

Pours His Liquid

falling all around

as the LifeStorm

of the Heart's Sweet Self

inside the Fountain

of Love-Droplets,

dropping Mystery-Mist

as the Kiss

of Crazy Kismet

of Infinite

and Utterly Raptured

in the Raiment of Love's Gown,

 

of Love's tuxedo,

 

of Love's over-alls,

 

of Love's apron and towel,

 

of Love's nakedness

making it Unashamedly

to the Lake of No-Return.

 

Let's burn up

the entire Ocean,

every conceivable Sea

with flames of Bliss,

of Wim's

"Love Is Reality

In Bliss,"

in Bliss, so Baby,

just give me

a Deep-Hearted Kiss!

 

In Complete

and Causal Bliss

we never miss

an opportunity to pull out

the Cause of the Causal,

the Cause of the Causeless,

the 'Cause I said so' routine,

like rabbits from a Holy Hat.

 

In all three worlds,

my Darling,

my Heart,

my Own Radiant Heart

Brightly beating,

my most Adorable,

my Beautiful Mashuq,

 

i salute the One,

the One

Who suddenly

became a Deluge,

a Driving Downpour,

a Demanding Drenching,

a complete and total

Drowning Doer

Doing Nothing ,

and still Everything.

 

The Doer doing us

and then Dancing,

Delighting in Dancing

Divinity of Dancer's

Dancing Hands and feet

into the Luminous

and Luminescent,

Effulgent with Zen,

with Zen as Bob,

 

and as the Zenbob Brother,

for example,

being broken down

by a Storm Devouring

and Showering

 

every blade of grass,

 

every lively anthill,

 

every giant Redwood tree,

 

every Sea to shining sea,

 

every You and every Me.

 

 

There must be an umbrella,

SOMEWHERE

in this House of cards and tricks,

and slights of the One Hand.

 

Show me your palm,

and i will trace

Your Lineage

right back to the Line,

to the Love and Life line

of the Beautiful,

the most Beautiful

Beloved of All Lovers

Loving the Leaving

the dinner table while

breaking bread

beneath a Hungry Storm

which seeks

our Annihilation.

 

Be That Line,

Be that Palm and palm-reader,

Be that first dark cloud

of Knowing the Rainstorm

Is coming to wash away

every last fibre and

every last meaning

of anything believed before.

 

i Bow Down to my Beloved Darling.

i Bow down to Gurudeva,

and to Meera ma,

and to Sri Ramana,

and to Ramakrishna,

Nityananda,

and to Kabir

and to Attar,

and to the very stars

who watch in Silence,

Silently forming over

all of this,

This That We Are Now.

 

Now, and i mean it, Danji,

Dan B who makes me always laugh,

can we get to the next customer

to sigh, not sign,

to die

while never disbeliving

that It Never Ends -

 

this Life,

and this Heart,

So Laughing in the Storm,

Laughing

into the Eye of the Storm,

to Gracious Grace-Giving God,

can THIS Be It,

you might ask,

but, trust the Heart,

that wild

and really crazy guy,

He Trusts in This Love!

He IS This Love

breaking Hearts

to make them more showing-offingly

opened for Business.

No flask!

No goatbag

slung so freely across

the Lion's Shoulder.

Soooo, just This!

This That we Are Now.

 

 

"You knock at the door of Reality.

You shake your thought-wings, loosen

your shoulders,

and open."

 

Merge with it, in here or out there, as you please,

because this is the River of Rivers

and the Beautiful Silence of Endless Talking."

 

~Rumi

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

Mazie

[Guest guest]

, zen2wrk@a... wrote:

> Mazie:

 

I awoke this morning to a deep low fog, filtering the dawn through

the many oak trees dotting the landscape, as the roosters and peafowl

gave voice to the day (and unless you have heard a covey of peafowl

calling, you really cannot imagine such voices!) and read your words.

 

All was one great harmony.

 

How lovely, how ephemeral and timeless all at once.

 

I thank you for giving thought to my day, as the birds gave it music

and the light brings awakening and life.

 

.....Beloved Friend of the Sweet Green Tea spilling out,

 

This is so Dear what you have said, and truly, my Heart just simply

lifts into the Kind and Sweet Love that prompts the recognition of

the Song of Love. Dearest Zenbob, these days will be the receeding

away of all the Sea thought it wanted to tell us, but when we plunge

in deeper, knee-deep, chest-deep, over the head and more, we become

that Translucent Wave waving everybody into the Ocean.

 

LoveAlways,

 

Mazie

 

Blessings,

 

Zenbob

[Guest guest]

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

>Go further,

go further,

go deeper…

 

 

 

we wander from room to room in this

mysterious house, trying to find our home.

In each room we come to, there is a lively party

in full swing, and all the celebrants shout out:

"Here, here! You need go no further –

it's all happening in this very room!"

they all seem to be having such a grand time,

and so we step across the threshold and, in

an instant, the party-goers begin wailing like

inmates in some crazy asylum, and we find

ourselves wailing too, and there is such a clamor

of wailing that we can't even hear ourselves, and

this condition persists for what seems like forever,

until we come to think that we have always only

been in this crazy wailing world, and then someone

steps forward – who knows why – and puts their mouth

against our ear and says: "Go further.", and time just seems to

stop, and suddenly we are standing in the hallway of this

mysterious house once again, searching for our home, but we

try to be a little more careful at the next room, and somehow we are

tricked again by the merriment whooping it up in that room, and so

the whole thing repeats, and so it goes, and this house seems to have

endless rooms of experience, and some are cruel, and some are sublime,

but none are home, and that voice just keeps on saying: "Go further –

don't stop!", and so we listen a little more closely each time, and

at a certain point – who can say when – we suddenly find ourselves

standing outside the house, perhaps in a kind of garden, and we

realize this house is the very home for which we have been searching,

but it has never been occupied, there has never been a single party-

goer, and in fact it is just a front, a façade, and at that point it

simply crumbles, like a house of cards, and we are standing in the

garden, and the full moon, rising over the horizon, is so utterly

beautiful that we begin to weep, tears washing into the home we are,

so graced by the light of this magnificent moon!

 

LoveAlways,

 

b