Forgiveness: As a Christian Disappears Into Grace

[Guest guest]

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

 

To You, Beloved,

i will try to say something.

 

Just this -

 

Some time ago, a time

when Wim was a wandering mystic,

or so i've heard,

seventy times seven

was said to be this thousand times

that Rumi said to Hussam when

they were wandering in the Mystery

in some vineyard in Konya,

Korasan,

and Iraq.

 

Remember, they were a garden,

two souls

with one body

one soul

with two bodies

with birdsong

and some kind of misty rain

like fog, like

San Francisco fog

moving through them.

 

You move me.

Moving through me,

movement somehow ceases.

 

In this Stillness,

palming an entire pomegranate orchard

in Your right hand,

Scarlet-Dark scattering Hearts burst

into a lake of White-Light Lotus blossoms

as far as the eye can see,

That Eye!

They spring forth from the left,

upturned palm, pouring forth

like the rippling watery waves

weeping into a Sea of Bliss that You

spoke of today.

 

This weeping is Joy imploding,

imploding into OneHeart knowing

Rumi was and is the Love of Shams.

 

Loving Shams, and the Beloved One,

and yes, the Most Beautiful One is Shams,

Rumi Loves Shams and is Shams' Loving

Rumi like i Love You.

Like You Love me when hearing

someone say -

 

"Where are they?"

 

Where aren't they?!

 

When the Majesty opened this morning

at Dawn, when the bird began singing,

we were entered,

became the entrance,

entered into,

inside One Another again,

again as the Kindness Friend Who enters

every Heart

as Yes, this OneHeart beating again

and yet again as

the Eternal Rhythmic Sound

of Love Loving ItSelf as and for ItSelf

in the heartbeat of every Lover.

 

And everything, everyone, everywhere

is the Lover of the Beloved.

 

Everything Everywhere Forever.

 

See, It's A Gain,

an infinitely multitudinous

single grain of rice appearing

as the idea-seed of hunger being satisfied.

The Satisfaction of One Being fed as many.

Many mouths have not been able to say,

yet again, what i cannot say -

 

This Unspeakable Thing,

 

This Love.

 

It feeds on us as we feed on It.

The bell rings.

 

Sasaki Roshi speaks.

The Unsayable is somehow said.

 

How can i say this to You?

Okay. Just this -

 

The night approaches.

The mountain approaches.

Sasaki Roshi approaches.

 

Now, they are Here.

 

The bell rings clearly.

Hearing only Silence,

we fall into That.

 

LoveAlways,

 

Mazie

>>>>>>>>>>O<<<<<<<<<<<<

>From one grain,

ten thousand grains.

Inscribed upon each grain,

the history of this galaxy.

It is a history of silence,

an audible record of no one

ever speaking, nothing ever being

said, saying more by saying less,

the way glyphs only hint at some

aboriginal sensation: Deer at dawn,

dawn in the garden of the milky way

before it was the milky way, mountain

shadows conceal the hunter, relentlessly

patient and cunning in love, love that knew

no name for love as it pursued Beloved, hunger

tempered with an awe that such as deer at dawn

appear in answer to some silent prayer continuously

humming in the heart of hungry hunters at the morning

of this borning world which until now was nameless.

 

Staggered, struck before fear in the heart by a spear

of exquisite incomprehensibility, deer drawn down

to fragrant earth, aromatic scent of heart blood

pumping out life into mystery, quivering sigh,

soft exhale, soothed beyond breath, dark,

death become the name, the sign of the

sigh, the surrender unprovoked by

naming, no ringing bells, just

death, and then the feast of

elements forever feeding,

no one speaking, nothing

needing to be said.

 

Glory to Her,

The Dark One!

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

b