ShivAllahSita sutra 15

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For if man's creation, his present condition, and future hope are all

bound up with the divine grace which is Christ, it will not do to

think of Christ as a good man or a very good man, an inspired man or

a very inspired man, an important or a very important example of

divine grace. It will not do to explain the Incarnation as a union of

wills dependent upon the essentially transitory and fragile

responsiveness of the human subject in Christ. Grace cannot depend

upon anything, least of all upon the waverings of the best even of

human wills. Grace must be unconditional and the Incarnation a

binding of the Son of God with man in a union stronger than, because

more basic than, any human act or choice.

~Cyril of Alexandria

 

Give nothing and expect nothing in returnto know blessingsthat exceedthe highest monetary amount

~David Bozzi

 

.... God presents himself in the inmost depths of my soul. I understand

not only that he is present, but also how he is present in every

creature and in everything that has being, in a devil and a good

angel, in heaven and hell, in good deeds and in adultery or homicide,

in all things, finally, which exist or have some degree of being,

whether beautiful or ugly.

I also understand that he is no less present in a devil than a good angel.

Therefore, while I am in this truth, I take no less delight in seeing

or understanding his presence in a devil or in an act of adultery

than I do in a good angel or in a good deed. This mode of divine

presence in my soul has become almost habitual. Moreover, this mode

of God's presence illuminates my soul with such great truth and

bestows on it such divine graces that when my soul is in this mode it

cannot commit any offense, and it receives an abundance of divine

gifts… It is al granted deep wisdom, great divine consolation, and

joy.

~Angela Foligno

 

When we are softened and opened enough to

accept things as they actually are, to

accept ourselves as we actually are,

the old conflict, the wanting

it all to be something other than

it is, subsides.

There is great mercy here.

One can allow the anxious animals to

move closer and huddle next to us --

all searching creatures of the daylight,

yearning for the welcoming embrace of

an eternal night.

Vastness pumps itself

through every bloodstream,

circling an oasis named

the heart.

The heart is the Abode of Bliss,

it has no boundary of flesh,

thought, feeling.

This bloodstream originates

in the same source as

anxious animals,

lovers, sense of

self.

The energy required to resist

and oppose is the same that

powers the contraption of clinging.

I left that rusting machine at the base of

Cold Mountain, near the river bank with

my uniform of reason, and now I float,

naked on the currents, dazzled by

the glinting streambed stones

passing swiftly beneath me.

~b

 

O God.

O Beloved!And as You once followed God into the Sea,rip-tides of

karmic conversation crashing in,I begin to realize that we are going

to feed the Heart of Mystery.Shakti entertains the idea,

(The very idea!)of serving us up to Shiva!Allah is Merciful in meting

out the Quantum CuriosityIts due. IdobelieveIdobelieveIdobelieve I

don't believe in anything.Tonight at the Marina on Suisun Bay

as we feed the seagulls,It’s Shiva swallowing the food,

for Shiva, Shiva, Who's swallowing them and us, Shiva, Who swallowed

nothing. . . O Gawd!Nothing but Light these days, These d a y s . . .

I think tonight, I'll inquire into this with b.That's if God spares

us.

~Mazie

 

i see workers in a dream rushing around carrying staircasesbringing

wallslevelling emptinessworried lest God might think them lazyand all

he wants them to doisrestandbe kind~Jack Kerouac

We rest in this, the Mighty Kindness.

We dream we are workers in a dream,

dreaming of the rush that will give us God.

We carry the cross of our own hewing down

of dream-trees grown in the dream-world

where we think we’re building staircases to heaven.

I stare into emptiness,

empty then of even that one who would think

they stare or see with these eyes.

Fare thee well, my Darling,

I’ve been levelled of walls of worries;

burnt down

In the river of Love we roll lazily in,

and friend,

That’s the Mighty Kindness

kindly resting in this moment.

The gaze is gone and the field is bare.

~Mitzvah

Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form. The child

weaned from mother's milk now drinks wine and honey mixed. God's joy

moves from unmarked box to unmarked box, from cell to cell. As

rainwater, down into flowerbed. As rose, up from the ground. Now it

looks like a plate of rice and fish, now a cliff covered with vines,

now a horse being saddled. It hides within these, till one day it

cracks them open. Part of the self leaves the body when we sleep and

changes shape. You might say, "Last night I was a cypress tree, a

small bed of tulips, a field of grapevines." Then the phantasm goes

away. You're back in the room. I don't want to make any one fearful.

Hear what's behind what I say. Tatatumtum tatum tatadum. There's the

light gold of wheat in the sun and the gold of bread made from that

wheat. I have neither. I'm only talking about them, as a town in the

desert looks up at stars on a clear night. ~Coleman Barks

Truth is simple and open to all. Why do you complicate?Truth is loving

and lovable. It includes all, accepts all, purifies all. It is untruth

that is difficult and a source of trouble. Italways wants, expects,

demands. Being false, it is empty,always in search of confirmation

and reassurance. It is afraidof and avoids enquiry. It identifies

itself with any support,however weak and momentary. Whatever it gets,

it loses andasks for more. Therefore put no faith in the conscious.

Nothingyou can see, feel, or think is so. Even sin and virtue,

meritand demerit are not what they appear. Usually the bad andthe

good are matter of convention and custom and are shunnedor welcomed,

according to how the words are used.~Nisargadatta Maharaj

If thou art wise, get inside, Shiva is there, do not go anywhere.

Friend, put thy trust in my word.

My Guru gave me but one percept,

from without withdraw your gaze within, and fix it on th inmost self,

taking to heart this one percept, naked I began to roam.

~Lalla

 

There is one God,

But with a hundred names, There is not a single blade of grass,

Which does not worship Him.

~Nund Rishi

Not easy to state the change you made. If I'm alive now, then I was

dead, Though, like a stone, unbothered by it, Staying put according

to habit. You didn't just toe me an inch, no - Nor leave me to set my

small bald eye Skyward again, without hope, of course, Of apprehending

blueness, or stars. That wasn't it. I slept, say: a snake Masked among

black rocks as a black rock In the white hiatus of winter - Like my

neighbors, taking no pleasure In the million perfectly-chiseled

Cheeks alighting each moment to melt My cheeks of basalt. They turned

to tears, Angels weeping over dull natures, But didn't convince me.

Those tears froze. Each dead head had a visor of ice. And I slept on

like a bent finger. The first thing I saw was sheer air And the

locked drops rising in a dew Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay Dense

and expressionless round about. I didn't know what to make of it. I

shone, mica-scaled, and unfolded To pour myself out like a fluid

Among bird feet and the stems of plants. I wasn't fooled. I knew you

at once. Tree and stone glittered, without shadows. My finger-length

grew lucent as glass. I started to bud like a March twig: An arm and

a leg, an arm, a leg. From stone to cloud, so I ascended. Now I

resemble a sort of god Floating through the air in my soul-shift Pure

as a pane of ice. It's a gift. ~Sylvia Plath

 

LoveEternal.

 

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