ShivAllahSita sutra 114

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So, it's true that Nis and Ramana

appeared as dreams in dreams.

 

And only as "this" which never

appears, is ever timelessly so.

 

And each is known in reference to the

other, "now," hence there is no

knowing of "this" -- it is simply

never not the case, to be known

or not known.

 

This which is awake, unknowable, isn't a personal

property, or something someone

finds out.

 

It has never not been the case.

 

This which is awake, is never not

awake, hence what you are

calling "dreams" are ever

free to arise and dissolve,

including dreams of dreamers

who are awake or not awake,

or speaking or listening.

 

~Peaceout,

Dan B.

 

 

Existence is neither singular nor dual.

 

Clinging to neither self nor Self,

abiding in the unknown, mysterious poetry

resounds throughout vast silence.

 

Each morning I sit on this drifting continent of

mind moving onward in a sort of perpetual leap.

 

Always floating inside are islands of me, of you,

of the whole of humanity's heart.

 

Some wildly, happy-flapping, bright bird of

words cries out in song -

 

Let there be the lift into Light!

 

Oh, this startlingly crisp streamer of dawn,

this trailer of life dangled as Light –

 

Fly!

 

Flying across the page of your heart

feathered fingers caress each moment,

each subtle insinuation of life with a

gladness indescribable.

 

Still, some spewing plume of fruited words

wants birthing.

 

Some finer finger of Light begs to

paint from your heart.

 

The palette is so exotically colorful I

become all open-mouthed poet,

crying out in bliss:

 

Here be sweet treats of Suchness

scooped from Peach-Blossom River!

 

Spilling from the lifeblood of Light,

pouring from my heartbeat seven times over,

straight through your soul-eyes a million impossible songs

sway in time within this poem.

 

Each single word is a new country,

a revolution, a full-mouthed circling kiss.

 

So much sunlight keeps pouring from you

that melons and figs,

their seeds and seed-thoughts blossom forth from

twigs and branches of withered plants.

 

We're already leaping into the ground before

we're even a seed!

 

Let this parade of friendly mothers-to-be

just give that last push,

push out into Light!

 

Another poem-soul cries out

in the first breathless breath of life -

 

I Am!

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

"O Kami O Kami... " moaned Mudaran, his brother's blood staining his

hands. "O Amaterasu, Hida, Jizo, Bishamon..." He knelt at Mudai's

side, feverishly working, binding up as many of the wounds as he

could. Beside him, Niruto silently tore cloth into strips and passed

them to him, never taking her eyes from Mudai's ravaged face. The

tsukai-sagasu lay completely limp, not stirring at all. Under his

hand, Mudaran felt his brother's heartbeat slowing.

"NO!" Mudaran howled in despair, seizing Mudai's hand in his own.

Taking a deep breath, he stilled himself, calling on every Fortune

and Kami and ancestor he could think of, and reached deep into his

own soul.

Come back.

Silence.

Come back to me.

Seeking through the void, calling, searching, pleading...

Live, brother, live. Don't leave me.

A constant prayer to any Fortune who might be listening running

through his mind, he bent and lifted his brother in his arms…

 

~The Tales of Kuni Mirutai

 

 

Innumerable meditations

 

welcoming this irresistible

interpenetration,

 

witnessing what suffers

by resisting,

 

again and again,

 

softening more deeply,

 

receiving more deeply,

 

softening more deeply,

 

receiving more deeply,

 

softening more deeply,

 

receiving more deeply

the intuition that,

 

within this very moment,

 

everything can be received

more deeply,

 

softening more deeply to receive,

 

become obsolete --

 

It will have its way

 

regardless.

 

Glory to That!

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

I put on a robe like theirs lest they suspect me as an outsider who

had come to steal the pearl of great price; lest they arouse the

serpent against me. But somehow they learned I was not their

countryman, and they dealt with me cunningly. I forgot that I was

a son of kings, and served their king. I forgot the pearl for which

my parents had sent me. Through the heaviness of their food I fell

into a deep, deep sleep.

 

~"Hymn of the Pearl"

 

 

Fear would have us believe

we are the victim, the one

that seems to be implicated

in the midst of experience by

the evidence of experience, and

for that one, in each moment,

there is a choice:

 

Love or

fear.

 

There really is no choice,

hence it is called the

Choiceless.

 

The choice was made before

the world was born.

 

Ah, see --

all flows fearlessly back and forth

in the heart, sometimes still as

a calm limpid pool, reflecting

the moon in its waters,

sometimes

a torrent that tears hearts to pieces –

 

one only knows by drowning.

 

Let the world see,

let everybody see

what becomes of the heart

that no longer resists

going under.

 

It's more than enough

beauty, kind enough

to ease the fears, to

swallow whole

the whole world's tears.

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

"Sufi messengers portray most societies as having succumbed to

spiritual sleep, having long since forgotten about the soul and the

importance of reconnecting with the spiritual world, the Point of

Origin. The Persian tale called "The Hymn of the Pearl" chronicles

the journey of one soul who incarnates and ends up in a typical human

society with the usual package of prejudice, myopia and agnosis,

helplessly trapped in it's own dreams and nightmares, seemingly

unable to ever wake up. In this environment, our soul grows up only

to forget itself and the mission for which it had originally been

sent. Our soul then takes on a new identity, wanting to "fit in,"

gaining the acceptance of others."

 

 

O Allah, give me Light. Bring me to the station of Vision, that I

may know myself as You.

 

~ Fakhruddin 'Iraqi

 

 

Kneeling stark naked in the snow,

dropped under the weight of my own desire to taste

the body of this mountain tasting me,

the snow melts between Cold Mountain's

heart and my own.

 

Now, a river of peace

flows through,

touched by nothing,

tasting nothing but

itself.

 

Ah, this fire has its way.

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

Meditation: high-soaring hawk of the

intellect's wrist resting at last on the flowering branch of the

heart: this world and the next are hidden beneath its folded wing.

 

~Sanai, (The Drunken Universe)

 

 

Crumbling under the weight of white light,

heavy with crystallized patterns of time,

the snowfields meet the

starfields tonight.

 

Climbing across the cloud banks

captured in the serene mood of moonlight,

Shining Mind reflects peacefully from

each jewel of snowflake.

 

Descending silently from the

darkened night sky, I

alight on the tip of

this world and

melt into

myself.

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

 

I could see you a thousand times a day and still desire to see you

once again.

 

~'Iraqi on Zikhr -- chanting names of God. The name of God takes

possession of the lover

who invokes it. Union with the name becomes union with Allah Himself.

As the lover calls for his Beloved, the magnetic force of love draws

them both together.

 

 

Before the approaching blizzard,

snow white clouds are ranging excitedly over

brilliant blue sky along the ridge

above my mountain hut, and

my heart is racing right

along with them.

 

Surrounded by snow, with

more snow coming, yet

not a flake refused --

 

this heart is running

through the sky,

 

side by side white clouds.

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

This yearning of the lover spurs even those who have attained union

to aspire to reach higher and higher still.

 

Bring the sky beneath your feet and listen to Celestial Music

everywhere.

 

~Rumi

 

 

That secret sound inside us

is the murmur of an echo

originating in the same

longing that births

planets, galaxies,

luminosities.

 

Plunging into it,

Host and Guest,

knower and known,

the wise and their wisdom

vanish without a ripple, as if

they never existed.

 

Try to follow that sound, and

you will do the same.

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

 

Let us find the remedy which raises us from the wheel of life,

fills our whole being with love which, and alchemizes us into the

Divine. Unite us in a love which surges into our Life-Stream,

making our lives a symphony, soft and sweet. The soul cries for the

dawn that smiles at the weary wayfarer, and for Divine Light to

embrace the whole cosmos.

 

~ Master Darshan Singh

 

 

The eels in these Cold

Mountain streams are slippery.

 

Even if I imagine

I've finally got my hands around one,

it will always slip away.

 

Like me,

they like to play.

 

Light likes to play

Hide & Seek with

itself.

 

Don't ask me why.

 

I don't know.

 

Believing so is

another eel.

 

Let the eels play.

 

Relax and rest back

against a tree.

 

Any tree here on Cold Mountain

will do just fine.

 

Light has its own way

with each.

 

Each grows its own way

towards the light,

never for an instant

cleft from its source,

 

the same source

eels and I frolic in

today.

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

 

"According to one account, Shams Tabrez's Master, Bibi Kamaluddin

Jandi, ordered him to proceed to Rum and give solace and peace to

one pining heart there. Shams Tabrez thereupon came to Koniya. One

day Maulana Rumi's procession was proceeding with great pomp and

splendor.

 

Shams Tabrez, stopping the procession on the way asked Maulana

Rumi, "What is meant by Mujahida and Riazat (penances and similar

practices)"? Maulana Rumi replied, "It is to obey the command of the

Shariyat [law]". Shams Tabrez retorted, "That of course, everybody

knows". Maulana Rumi thereupon asked, "What can be of greater

significance that this?" Shams Tabrez replied, "The purpose of

knowledge is to take you to the Abode of God." So saying, he recited

the following couplet of Hakim Sanai:

 

Ignorance is better than

the kind of knowledge

which does not rid you

of egotism and I-ness.

 

Hearing this from Shams Tabrez, Maulana Rumi accepted him as his

Master."

 

~from James Bean's Sant Mat group

 

 

We are born and then we die –

how few wake out of time and space to

really taste what's in-between!

 

I have crossed the thin red line of

my own blood to be here, to break

upon a shock of flashing light

made flesh as this moment I am,

pouring light, streaming down to

lift the forms of light I am into a

dark brightness so vast, and yet so

particular in the precision of

its forming and informing one

singular beauty, a beauty

moment by moment refined in heart's

furnace, drawn by the magnet

of my own light, loving, lifted out of

lost or found, words and what they

don't say, can't say,

still saying,

over and over and over –

Yes! Yes! Yes!

 

This light is that kind of poison,

elegantly trickled into a dead man's

mouth, and as this dusty corpse

rises, yawns and exhales billowing

yellow marigold light, eyes become

rivers, drowning visions upon visions

within one fixed pupil, the other

shimmering bright with glory ray,

spiraling, swirling into dancing

desire, drunk deep of desire,

desire poised for imminent

immolation on the pyre of itself,

suddenly bursting into the hungry

flames of what it came here for,

a something somehow sliding into

itself, vastness impregnating

itself with its own light,

nothing more, not even

this.

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

When the Master discloses the

Secrets and Mysteries of the

human microcosm, your soul

and mind will rush in rapture

towards the high heavens.

 

~Rumi

 

 

Hello to the one.

Hello to the many.

Hello to myself.

Hello to all yet to be

seen as myself.

Hello to what falls

in between.

Hello to the kiss of

the dream-weaving Queen.

Hello to all fishes

in search of the sea.

Hello to you and me.

 

Having said that, I find

there is nothing more to say.

 

Having said that,

let me say this:

 

Your Beauty makes me weep.

Your efforts to love make me weep.

Your failure to love makes me weep.

Love makes me weep.

I weep for love, and thus

 

there is nothing more to say.

 

Having said this, let me say that

I find you irresistible.

 

All of you.

 

All parts of all of you.

 

Even those parts.

 

And those too.

 

And even your little names -

I love them, and so

I weep.

 

Do you see what I mean?

 

Please explain it to me.

 

What is this thing in my chest?

This thing that says hello, and then

bursts into weeping.

 

Nobody has given me a straight answer.

What can they say?

 

This is why I will say

what I came here to say.

 

I will say it now.

 

I will speak clearly.

I will

 

E N U N C I A T E.

 

What stands between us

is only us.

 

Take that away,

and see what remains.

 

Leave it alone, and

now we are home.

 

Try walking away -

you'll walk into me.

 

Hello!

 

Try standing still -

you'll get stuck

with the bill.

 

Whoops!

 

Hey!

 

The barbarians say:

 

"Namaste!"

 

Namaste!

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

There is no salvation for the soul

But to fall in love.

It has to creep and crawl

Among the Lovers first.

 

Only Lovers can escape

>From these two worlds.

This was written in creation.

 

Only from the Heart

Can you reach the sky.

The rose of Glory

Can only be raised in the Heart.

 

~Rumi

 

 

If you are seeking

forgiveness for the past,

find the place where

the past seems to exist and

notice it is

empty.

 

If one looks and sees nothing

but vast space, forgiveness

has already been granted, and

dark clouds of guilt evaporate

in the sky of mercy.

 

The mind that clings to nothing

resumes its natural disposition.

 

Springtime -- behold innumerable

colorful blossoms miraculously

sprouting on bare branches.

 

Autumn --

leaves wither and decay

throughout the forest.

 

When the tree of the past is

severed at the root, where

can birth and death

alternate?

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

In truth everything and everyone is a shadow of the Beloved,

and our seeking is His seeking and our words are His words. . . .

We search for Him here and there, while looking right at Him.

Sitting by his side, we ask: "Oh Beloved, where is the Beloved?"

Enough with such questions!

Let silence take you to the core of Life.

All your talk is worthless when compared

with one whisper of the Beloved.

 

~Rumi

 

 

Standing still in the well of the fire pit,

welcomed home by flame, you

will be consumed.

 

What remains is

standing still,

moving not

a muscle.

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

LV.

 

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments

Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;

But you shall shine more bright in these contents

Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time.

When wasteful war shall statues overturn,

And broils root out the work of masonry,

Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn

The living record of your memory.

'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity

Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room

Even in the eyes of all posterity

That wear this world out to the ending doom.

So, till the judgment that yourself arise,

You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes.

 

~Shakespeare

 

 

Face to space –

staring at the cave wall –

 

what's on the other side of the wall,

looking back at itself?

 

The face, the wall, the looking

all appear in the space of

Mind and get along

just fine.

 

This shining vastness,

empty and marvelous,

empty even of emptiness –

 

what a wonder!

 

Wherever you travel,

your own empire

welcomes you

home.

 

Han Shan calls out to

himself, Han Shan

answers:

 

"Yes!"

 

~Mazie & b

 

 

LoveEternal.