vision-play with Pale Moon Place

[Guest guest]

There have been stories passed down to the sons

And daughters of OneLight about wars in heaven.

Angels have been offered up in, and to,

the Infalliable Light Loka.

 

Perhaps the song offered by Sea Touching Shore

Will give a glimpse of the Liquidity of Love

Playing in the Garden of the Playmate's Heart...

 

Great Shining Exalted Suchness was such that

It was blinded by Its own Beautific Image.

Bedazzled by Bright Heart-Bloom,

The Intoxication of Sky-Self Fragrance

Waylaid the Whispered Param-Veritas.

 

Weapons forged in Rama's Rubiescence of Quiessence,

Wrought from the Pearl-Tears of Poseidon, drunk

In Self-Revelation as rivers of life flowing,

Ceaseless glowing in a boat

With no one rowing, no one

Knowing

In their coming and going, are given

into the Hands of Sheer Delight -

 

The Cosmically-Inclined Kali-Krishna,

The Mystery Veil-Falling One in Waterfall Dreams.

The Word scattered on Rippling Light Stream.

 

Spears with Emerald Angelic script inlaid

Are displayed

Upon the Altar of Blissful Mirth-Archer.

 

Shields of Blaze born in the brink

of Primal Blue Dark-Fire

Are inflamed with the Kiss of Shiva,

Love-Hot

Upon the Causeless-Call issuing forth

>From within the Cave-of-Existence Mouth

Beaming dream and dreamer from Shakti.

 

Those weapons wielded by Angels birthed from Light

Are the weapons Love forges still,

Silent-Hewn in Bright-Mind Marvelosity,

Like Hafiz, like Rumi, like Han Shan and b,

All-Love, OneHeart, Mirabai and Lalla,

Whitman and Mr. Wizard the Magic Lizard,

Hu, Hum, Aum, Amin, Amen, Ah, and Allah,

Allan Street and Allan Funt, Jesus, and Ali in Battle,

Ollie Ollie Oxen Free, All Saints and All Sinners,

Hokusai, Al-Hallaj, and Catherine of Siena,

And Linda, and Linda.

 

And Linda.

 

i look at it this way,

through and imbued in the eyespiritbliss of b,

an angle of vision most yesno –

 

 

Thoughts arise.

 

Wise men say

Ignore them.

 

Waking, sleeping, dreaming –

Ignore thought,

Ignorance

Is Bliss.

 

Yes there is nobody there, and yet

That nobody has a musical heart --

Its melody exceeds containment by

Any thought, belief, or identity,

Its lyrics are this very life,

Its singing is our dying into that,

Its listening is no longer resisting that,

Its hearing is remembrance of its indivisibility,

Its author is the source where thoughts arise,

Beyond their final notes

We Are,

Momentarily imagining

We are some humming thought, invariably

Astounded when that little tune

We thought we were

Sheds itself in harmony

Inconceivable to mind, invariably

Leaving us whistling in

Wonder.*

 

*b

 

LoveAlways,

 

Mazie