ShivAllahSita sutra 80

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You open your heart,

this day Beloved Krishna

takes ours --

His Eternal Form,

wave after wave of infinitely

permeating Presence of Love washing

upon a shore of consciousness

beyond comprehension,

Hari Krishna,

Om Namah Shivaya!

 

You just let it take you --

His flute music to the dance

you can no longer resist,

the music of the Heart finally

allowed to exhale completely

into vast spaciousness --

notes trailing,

vanishing.

 

~b

 

 

Never less than Nataraja Dancing Namo into Namaste

And never less than Hedwig had when inching towards Her Light,

You make Salome and Mary Magdalene a Fusion-Food

where east eats west

And the Southern Route is cut off at the tip of the iceberg

flaming with the fire of identification

Burning in the past performances

balancing on the tip of the GodHead

as You balance between Light

And Dark, Night and Day, and Dance as if Grace

had gone and taken Your place

as my Beloved, my b.

 

I can barely bear Your Beauty as You perform a Ballet of Bhava

before me in Unbearable Perfection.

I cannot bear the Beauty of being privy to Balarama

breaking through time and space to be with me.

The Cobra mesmerizes the Piper and I am all pie-eyed and crying

as I try to define the boundlessness of b…

b the Beautiful Kumari, the Golden-Armed Kannon

as He holds ghostly audiences of beings

like Mata Hari, Fred Astaire and Shiva-Nataraja captive

and calling out "Encore! Encore!"

 

The core story that Adya coined came home this morning

when Love Watched Love

Waltzing in eternity like a Mystic-Willow tracing Harmony

and Mystery in the Water of Existence.

God is hypnotized and mesmerized by His Own Dance.

 

Isadora Duncan tied her scarves

around b's feet and took Him down today.

Everyone who watched from the shores of time and space

have disappeared beneath the Sea of Sunyata.

Somewhere there is someone spinning in Dream-Verse

this very story.

Verily I say,

The Dance and the Dancer are not two.

 

 

Huummmm...light click, click, splash blue,

digit, did ya, didgeridoo, divest these thoughts,

there's work to do.

Still climbing the love-rope let down

from words knotted and dropped here before daybreak.

That storm-world that whirled across the page,

from that one, The Eye of Love stared straight, unblinking.

Pearl-beads slip quietly by on the window-pane, raining

across the sea of my Heart lifting, falling,

then lifting again when the moon of your words rises inside.

The breaking apart of distance, separation, driftwood imaginings.

That great awakening under a dark wall of sky moving,

grey gatherings, breaks of blue, gulls the billow and blow,

all have sailed this way before, silent the call to join,

to join in gladness abounding all around in weather's song.

The way of the moon, the stars, the breaking waves on shore,

they are our way, the poet's wayside world of laughter.

Words like 'ransom,' 'heartlight,' 'willow,' they breathe.

Tonight, tonight is this daybreak lift across your SeaWords,

and I float upside-down in Seawater, particles dissolving

in the rain that's falling all around me now. Here,

with you now, the spin is centered in, the wind stilled

in a tiny drop of water as it slips quietly down the windowpane.

 

~Mitzvah

 

 

Red-Winged Blackbird

 

All along this bayside-hillside-landslide that we've landed on,

Love lifts Its skirts and flirts with every passer-by by

flashing petticoats of scarlet beneath the obviosity,

obsidian-like in hue and shine, of feather-fitted blackbird gear,

and Dear, my Dearest Heart,

I fear I shall soon and later cry out in ecstasy when

the red epaulets of Arjuna open

and lift the tiny pilgrim on The Way to Nowhere,

Sky-bound in the Hand of sapphire sizzling fire etched in Primal Blue

as the Gift of the Red-Winged Blackbird!

Love Lifts Its Feather'd Fairie Mouth to Taste the Heart-Sky, and Red,

Red scandalizes the Radha Weeping Sky by fluttering open,

Fusing and Bhava-Bruising the Scarlet-Hearted Hari that heaves

And burns up the boat, the sea and this breast beating so brightly

That Love Bleeds and Feeds the universe the Light of God.

 

 

Tulles

 

In tulle beds

with cattail spears spearing skyward,

the wild, little blackbird lives in holy madness,

drunk on the wine

of Pyracantha berries

and the rushing wind in the rushes whispering

the mysteries of life and death.

Red-Winged, black-robed,

Chirrupping sutras in sesshin with no one.

Swaying on laughing green fingers

and palms of thin hands lifting

their glossy, full-moon in orange-red,

feathered heartbeats, breaking

the sky with divine LoveSongSingingSounds

all around me, so profound.

Breast-beating gladness now,

beats inside me now

as little feathered monks

lift off -

gone into Nirvana.

 

 

at the moment of awakening,

not-two became again One

in union,

fingers of energy

licking up our spine

a column of wind,

on fire,

burning,

searing,

scorching

all unto ashes,

merged in unity,

my heart

pulsing in your chest,

your breath

filling my lungs

with sweetest freshness,

shedding our separate skins,

and tasting trust.

 

~Joyce

 

Awakening, this moment,

This moment of before and later, presently

The past and future inter-twine,

Rhyming union with Moonion,

The full moon of two-not-two,

The me and You Blues arise and lift

As the LightMind Divines

That there is no time,

There is no space.

Tracing markers of ivisibility,

The visible fire of Kundalini burns Its Face

Of Tracelessness on every stone lifted

On the High road to Zion.

The Lion of Immortality takes hot and cold

And rolls the code of cause and effect

Into the Perfect Burn –

Bliss of Kriya Yoga surges,

Fire merges with Water

And the Daughters of Mara

Churn in the Sea of "I Am He,"

Healing the Heart

And charting the Unchartable

Into the Taste of Tat.

I tear my skin of desire off and turn inward,

Naked and nebluae-like –

The Narada and Nataraja of the Dance of Fire.

 

~Mazie

 

 

holding fire

cupped in our hands,

gazing in wonder,

flames licking our skin.

violet-blue,

lighten-ing gold,

ruby wine

tendrils

scorching,

searing,

charring

the landscape

of our palm.

rewriting history,

lifeline,

headline,

heartline,

melting away

fingerprints

of the past,

the arching pain,

and whorling pleasure.

 

holding fire

cupped in our hands,

gazing in awe,

flames licking our skin,

fingers now spread,

flames morph into water

and sluice between,

cascading downward,

to nurture the earth.

 

~Joyce

 

 

These old familiar ruts

live in three recordings

which fill day by day

going round with each experience

I must not think

I must not feel

I must not sense

in these old ruts

Each day brings

new possiblilties

emptiness can see

this newness

But fall into the ruts

then circles are closed

and spirals flattened

down into two dimensions

 

~Benny

 

 

)))) Don't try to hold onto what is realized,

be what is realized. You cannot maintain

realization or sustain it. In order for it

to always be, you must be it yourself -

in your humanity.

 

~ Adyashanti

 

 

Now there are those who turn from things out of love, but

who still have great regard for what they have left.

But those who understand in truth that

even when they have given themselves up and

have abandoned all things,

 

this is still absolutely nothing --

 

those who live in this way,

truly possess all things.

 

~Meister Eckhart

 

 

Nothing stands in the way of your liberation

and it can happen here and now, but for your

being more interested in other things. And

you cannot fight with your interests. You

must go with them, see through them and

and watch them reveal themselves as mere

errors of judgments and appreciation.

Discard every self-seeking motive

as soon as it is seen and you need

not search for truth; truth will find

you.

 

~Nisargadatta Maharaj

 

 

 

If there be a goal to be reached it cannot be permanent. The goal

must already be there. We seek to reach the goal with the ego, but

the goal exists before the ego. What is in the goal is even prior to

our birth, i.e., to the birth of the ego. Because we exist the ego

appears to exist too.

If we look on the Self as the ego then we become the ego, if as the

mind we become the mind, if as the body we become the body. It is the

thought which builds up sheaths in so many ways. The shadow on the

water is found to be shaking. Can any one stop the shaking of the

shadow? If it should cease to shake you would not notice the water

but only the light. Similarly take no notice of the ego in its

activities, but see only the light behind. The ego is the I-thought.

The true "I" is the Self.

 

~ Ramana Maharshi

 

 

We were awakened shortly before dawn by the

Victorious Cry of the vanishing night,

a sutra freshly scrawled across

the serene page of sky --

a chant of ever after,

never was,

here, there, everywhere.

 

Two children stood by a window at the

Transmission Place,(a nodding bow towards the

Obvious from the Obscure), the sky now in

flames, burning like the children in the

blazing pyre of Radiance it

lights to see itself,

 

burning,

 

serenely.

 

Some use brushes,

we use words:

sky, light,

God, fire,

us.

 

We were so happy

to have never been

other than this!

 

We would be just as happy

to be you –

it's undeniable

you know:

 

we are.

 

What else is there to do but

gaze in awe when

there is only love

cupped in our hands,

this happiness,

flames licking our skin,

fingers now spread,

flames morphing into water

and sluicing between,

cascading downward,

nurturing the earth?

 

~b

 

 

The Many Wines

 

Drink wine that moves you

as a camel moves when it's been untied,

and is just ambling about.

 

--Rumi

 

 

Tied or untied,

something sure seems to be

always wanting to be

ambling about.

Trying to restrain it

sounds like a good idea at first.

When you think you have finally

roped it in, you find out just how

playful Mystery is, and

there you go again!

There are many ways

we try to control the camel.

Giving it a wide field to amble in,

it eventually ambles home --

perhaps to the sound of some

irresistible flute music,

sometimes just

on its own.

 

~b

 

 

I saw you dancing last night on the roof

Of your house all alone.

I felt your heart longing for the Friend

I saw you whirling

Beneath the soft bright rose

That hangs from an invisible stem in the sky

So I began to change into my best clothes

In hopes of joining you

Even though I live a thousand miles away

And if You had spun like an immaculate sphere

Just two more times,

Then bowed again so sweetly to the East,

You would have found God and me

Standing so near

And lifting you into our Arms.

 

~ Hafiz

 

Beloved, once it seemed we lived far more than just a thousand miles

away, but then I saw you dancing, dancing amidst whirling skirts of

words and what they don't say, can't say, yet even so were said so

clearly there was no option but to take you up on your reminder to

remember what we never ever can forget –

 

LoveAlways.

 

~b

 

Rest and Be Taken

When there is deep abidance

there is nowhere to abide.

There is nowhere to rest

or grasp onto

and yet there is rest.

The sky abides

yet it never rests.

Neither can we say that

the sky is not always at rest.

We talk about the sky

as if it were something

as if it actually exists-

and yet we cannot say that

the sky does not exist.

The sky is nothing but coming and going.

Everything is perfectly spontaneous.

The coming and the going arise mutually

instantaneously.

If the true I is asleep

you will miss the point entirely

and you will continue to dwell

in the world of opposites.

So see the two as one

and the one as empty

and be liberated

within the world of duality

At first it seems

as if the begoing follows becoming.

But look even closer

and you will see

that there are only

flashes of lightning

in the empty sky.

Life and death

becoming and begoing

are only words.

In order to save your life

You must see that you die

instantaneously

moment to moment

instant to instant.

Now where are you going to abide?

And where are you not abiding already?

Indeed there is nowhere

to rest your head

and there is nothing but rest.

So let go of all ideas

about permanence and impermanence

about cause and effect

and about no cause and no effect.

All such notions are dualistic concepts.

The Truth of what you are

is completely beyond all duality

and all notions of non-duality,

and yet it includes duality

and non-duality alike.

Like an ocean

that is both waves and stillness

and yet un-definable

as waves and stillness.

The truth of being

cannot be grasped by ideas

or experiences.

Both waves and stillness

are the manifest activity

of your own self.

But self cannot be defined

by its own activity

nor by its non-activity.

The truth is all transcendent

ungraspable, all inclusive

and closer that you own skin.

A single thought about it

obscures its essence.

The perfume of true life

is right in your nose.

There is nothing you can do

to perceive it

and yet you must do something.

I say:

Rest and be taken.

Rest and be taken.

 

--Adyashanti

 

 

you did not get caught

on any sticky thread,

today you met your fate

drowning on my dinner plate.

each time I sat down

you came for a short walk

on the back of my hand

and now I realise how much I miss

your company and endless loops

in these long dark nights

 

~Alan Larus

 

 

Pin me down

sacrifice each limb

a discarded Raggety Ann

who failed to please

a remnant of yesterday's celebration

 

Still I will cradle ALL love without reason

 

Wipe me extinct

an invisable menthor

without purpose or reason

a discarded aroma incentive

without physical presence

 

Still I will cradle ALL love without reason

 

shuttle me to and from

the clockwork train

wound into hopeless oblivion

a pitiful expression of motion

completely out of steam

 

still I will cradle ALL love without reason

 

Chew me up

stomp on me

bleed me dry

the ballpoint pen

that is left without purpose

 

Still I will drink Loves eternal saturating intoxity!

 

~Titch

 

 

"There is no one who is aware. Awareness itself is itself. You are

now no longer the thought, nor the thinker, nor someone who is aware.

Only Awareness remains, as itself. Then, within awareness, thought

moves. Within the changeless, change happens. Now Awareness expresses

itself. Awareness is always expressing itself: as life, as change, as

thought, feeling, bodies, humans, plants, trees, cars, etc. The

changeless is changing. The eternal is living and dying. The formless

is form. The form is formless. This is nothing the mind could ever

have imagined."

 

~ Adyashanti

 

 

 

"Let small pockets of radically transformative spirituality,

authentic spirituality, focus their efforts and transform their

students. And let these pockets slowly, carefully, responsibly,

humbly, begin to spread their influence, embracing an absolute

tolerance for all views, but attempting nonetheless to advocate a

true and authentic and integral spirituality - by example, by

radiance, by obvious release, by unmistakable liberation. Let those

pockets of transformation gently persuade the world and its reluctant

selves, and challenge their legitimacy, and challenge their limiting

translations, and offer an awakening in the face of the numbness that

haunts the world at large.

 

Let it start right here, right now, with us-with you and with me-and

with our commitment to breathe into infinity until infinity alone is

the only statement that the world will recognize. Let a radical

realization shine from our faces, and roar from our hearts, and

thunder from our brains-this simple fact, this obvious fact: that

you, in the very immediateness of your present awareness, are in fact

the entire world, in all its frost and fever, in all its glories and

its grace, in all its triumphs and its tears. You do not see the sun,

you are the sun; you do not hear the rain, you are the rain; you do

not feel the earth, you are the earth. And in that simple, clear,

unmistakable regard, translation has ceased in all domains, and you

have transformed into the very Heart of the Kosmos itself-and there,

right there, very simply, very quietly, it is all undone.

 

Doubt and remorse will then be alien to you, and self and others will

be alien to you, and outside and inside will have no meaning at all.

And in that obvious shock of recognition-where my Master is my Self,

and that Self is the Kosmos at large, and the Kosmos is my Soul-you

will walk very gently into the fog of this world, and transform it

entirely by doing nothing at all.

 

And then, and then, and only then-you will finally, clearly,

carefully and with compassion, write on the tombstone of a self that

never even existed: There is only Ati (Enlightened Mind.)"

 

~Ken Wilber

 

 

LoveEternal.