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Our Dance

 

When i enter You, Beloved, i pass out of time into Eternity.

In this timelessness of our Loving an unearthly music all-surrounds;

& the flow of our together is dance in cadences of undulant caress-

all-blessing.

 

Your LoveWords caress my ears with dulcet tones

as i lie with You, enrapt in this aura of pure beatitude.

The sheer intensity of the smile that illuminates Your Face of Love

is like new birth awakening in me...

 

Enrapt in You, what singing, this? soft melodies

flowing thru hearts of bliss giving sweetest intimations

of all the unutterable joys we will create together...

 

The apartness of our every alone -- but to intensify this sharing,

this baring of our most sensitive parts -- enrapturing hearts! --

in most intimate caring... your eyes a liquid shining...

i want to flow *into* you as you *melt*

into my arms, my lips, in this dance we do together.

 

There is no ending to Our Dance... installments across Eternity

as we explore infinity & divinity together in a dance that soars

deeply, deeply, into each other, into ourselves & *out* of ourselves,

this pulsation across the centuries & eons, splendors unending...

 

& ever*new, Bride of Light, in this boundless love for You...

 

 

~~in Her Loving,

 

~~wynn

 

[by Wynn Manners, 16.Sept.2003]

 

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

 

Affairs Of The Heart

 

 

 

Beloved, how patient you are,

with this, my wonder-lust.

And because you touched all of this - I sing,

my body answers now with your wonder.

I am your desire and spirit also,

rising within your tongue, as man-fire.

 

It's true, I have wooed you

as a man to a woman,

and now your gift is given

as you suffer to be me.

 

Imagine a dust mote

making love to the sunrise!

Imagine an arrogance so overweening

that the sun in its mercy

had to become that dust mote

just to be its path.

 

This is how I became your slave

and your ardent lover together.

You have brought the sun into the moon

and made this body a crucible,

to burn my tinder into prayer.

Desire into wonder.

Wonder into love's lust for love.

 

You knew,

I was never going to make it as your saint,

and so you kept me faithful

to your kisses.

Until at last I did not know

whose lips were whose, and cared less.

 

You play my flirtatious games

and endure my sweet talk,

while slowly emptying my heart

of everything but you.

 

If I still persist in singing love songs

it is because you strike first with the perfect note.

I just get to be an echo once in a while,

my voice turning into

your honey and silence.

A silence refined from all those affairs of the heart

and ignited, into just this one Love.

 

love

 

eric

 

[by Eric Ashford, April 21, 2002]

 

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

 

tattered soul streaming Light

 

 

 

All along the walks inside the Garden,

Love's Garden of Sweet Delights and Savories,

there are pieces of Lover's Souls

snagged up on Heartvines twisting round.

 

Glittering like an Italian field

of red Poppies waving-weaving words,

each fragment of each heart torn

is whispering something so softly,

so near-imperceptibly It's being spoken to.

 

All the tattered remnants are Alive!

Each one is a new poem unfolding

as a brighter Color of Love's Expression.

Entire sheets of some souls

lie blinking and blossoming,

bursting into a fragrant Bird of Paradise

and setting off, aloft,

Sky-bound, an Aerie-Hound of Heaven!

 

Trailing cosmic dust and spinning satellites

about to give off a new language in HeartSounds,

the Sundered Ones remain under the Darkness,

swimming in the sense of Freedom Night brings.

 

Darkness is indeed our Only Friend

when This Atom-Smashing Dance begins.

Dance when You have no atoms spinning anymore!

Dance when You feel the NightSky closing in on You!

Dance if the heart lies bleeding like a wound,

like a wounded deer who had its head in the jaws

of the Divine Lion of Love

and survived to talk about it!

 

Oh! We are all a bunch of Headless Wonders

full of the Wine of offering everything up for Love!

We spill so much of our Soul's tender honey,

so many tatters and tears are oozing us out

like a pattern on the wall from a nightlight.

 

Delicate, smooth whisperings

of "Why me? why me? Good God of Mercy, why me?"

Why indeed Us? And if indeed it is i or thou,

Good God, that's the Beauty!

 

Beloved chose this Heart to be the receptivity to Love,

to be the flowering blossom to every bee who seeks a Queen.

Beyond these holes glittering

with unfathomably Elegant Light,

there is a single Mouth saying something silently.

 

It is the Sound of Om

and it is the tone we set when we Love.

Loving Love and lifting our Hearts

to the Fire-fed Sky,

we offer ourselves as the tinder

for Sweetest Immolation!

 

We might all be Buddhist activists

and each of us is on fire for some Cause!

We are spilling Zikr's Light out all over the world!

What a burning we are when we let Beloved strike the match!

 

We are all so many books of blue matches,

Blue-faced baby God-matches wanting, Longing

just to Be struck into flame

by The Beautiful Beloved One!

 

A tattered patch of Soul still flutters,

still spills out Light into the Mouths of Lovers.

Ah! there's only One way to Fill Up on Love,

we must Spill every drop and then

turn inside out and blow away across the Earth and Heavens

as some kind of Shiva and Shakti's

Sacred Ash falling everywhere, Everywhere,

and Everywhere turns into Love's Face

streaming tears of Joy and ash and Soul sparkles!

 

We are just the back door being left open,

the second fiddle near the maestro.

We are so much Light leaking from Our Holy Wounds.

And we are the Bliss-Kiss that Heals the Pain away.

 

Love,

Mazie

 

[by Mazie Lane, Apr. 21, 2002 ]

 

 

^^^^^

 

 

The Song of Love

 

The Song of Love is Heard only by Love. It is the Loving Rhythm of

Love for and by Itself. Along with the little-known practice of

actually Loving, and Inquiry into the True Nature of the Lover, such

Hearing is more potent than any other so-called spiritual discipline,

until all such disciplines are recognized as only the Play of Love.

The Blessing Sound that Love bestows makes one who is ready

immediately open and empty to receive, devoid of any resistance.

Love's Real Nature is the OneHeart Itself. Only.

 

The ordinary person dreams in the brain, unaware of their True Home

in the Heart. The Lover lives in the Heart. The Lover is Lived by the

Heart, Awakening to a constant Whisper of the Heart to Itself. For

the Lover, the True Devotee of Love, there is nothing but the Joyful

movement of the Formless Heart into all forms and relationships as

Song itself!

 

The Lover has no will. No Choice. All such fantasies have been

consumed by the lovely Fire of Love. In the realm some call "this

world", the Lover knows that what they hear is not separate from the

OneHeart in Which all arises and dissolves, Which they realize in the

Heart as their own Self, Singing!

 

Love hears nothing as greater or lesser, higher or lower, better or

worse, more or less desirable. All is only Love to such ears. In the

state of Love the Lover hears nothing separate from the Beloved's

Voice - Radiance Divine rippling in every direction for the sheer

Magnification of Itself in Mysterious Symphonic Wonder. For the

Lover, Love alone IS, and nothing else.

 

By persisting in Communion with Love, the Lover sheds all recoil from

Love, until such dry tunes drop away completely, revealing That Which

Is. In such Humility, Love, Which Is Truth, becomes the Sacrifice

Which returns as the Singing Smile, illuminating all that does not

Recognize Itself as Love. Exquisitely, Beloved presses so urgently

down into mortality as a Musical Love Offering to that which lingers

in the forgetfulness of its own True Nature. How Happy is the Lover

to fall into this slipstream of Loving's Bright Song, that all may

enjoy the Delight of Love's Homecoming to Itself, the Self of All,

the Treasure of the Living Light of Heart-broken Surrender to the

deepest Yearning of Being Itself!

 

Jai to the Inextinguishable, this Ever-living Flame, this HeartSong!

 

LoveAlways,

 

Bob O'Hearn

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Beautiful! Thank you for this, I just got home from a

thirteen hour work day, and this was a breath of fresh

air.

 

Jai Ma...

 

Brianna

 

--- "It Keeps Changing ;)"

<cosmicwindwebsite wrote:

> Our Dance

>

> When i enter You, Beloved, i pass out of time into

> Eternity.

> In this timelessness of our Loving an unearthly

> music all-surrounds;

> & the flow of our together is dance in cadences of

> undulant caress-

> all-blessing.

>

> Your LoveWords caress my ears with dulcet tones

> as i lie with You, enrapt in this aura of pure

> beatitude.

> The sheer intensity of the smile that illuminates

> Your Face of Love

> is like new birth awakening in me...

>

> Enrapt in You, what singing, this? soft melodies

> flowing thru hearts of bliss giving sweetest

> intimations

> of all the unutterable joys we will create

> together...

>

> The apartness of our every alone -- but to intensify

> this sharing,

> this baring of our most sensitive parts --

> enrapturing hearts! --

> in most intimate caring... your eyes a liquid

> shining...

> i want to flow *into* you as you *melt*

> into my arms, my lips, in this dance we do together.

>

> There is no ending to Our Dance... installments

> across Eternity

> as we explore infinity & divinity together in a

> dance that soars

> deeply, deeply, into each other, into ourselves &

> *out* of ourselves,

> this pulsation across the centuries & eons,

> splendors unending...

>

> & ever*new, Bride of Light, in this boundless love

> for You...

>

>

> ~~in Her Loving,

>

> ~~wynn

>

> [by Wynn Manners, 16.Sept.2003]

>

>

> ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

>

>

> Affairs Of The Heart

>

>

>

> Beloved, how patient you are,

> with this, my wonder-lust.

> And because you touched all of this - I sing,

> my body answers now with your wonder.

> I am your desire and spirit also,

> rising within your tongue, as man-fire.

>

> It's true, I have wooed you

> as a man to a woman,

> and now your gift is given

> as you suffer to be me.

>

> Imagine a dust mote

> making love to the sunrise!

> Imagine an arrogance so overweening

> that the sun in its mercy

> had to become that dust mote

> just to be its path.

>

> This is how I became your slave

> and your ardent lover together.

> You have brought the sun into the moon

> and made this body a crucible,

> to burn my tinder into prayer.

> Desire into wonder.

> Wonder into love's lust for love.

>

> You knew,

> I was never going to make it as your saint,

> and so you kept me faithful

> to your kisses.

> Until at last I did not know

> whose lips were whose, and cared less.

>

> You play my flirtatious games

> and endure my sweet talk,

> while slowly emptying my heart

> of everything but you.

>

> If I still persist in singing love songs

> it is because you strike first with the perfect

> note.

> I just get to be an echo once in a while,

> my voice turning into

> your honey and silence.

> A silence refined from all those affairs of the

> heart

> and ignited, into just this one Love.

>

> love

>

> eric

>

> [by Eric Ashford, April 21, 2002]

>

>

> ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

>

>

> tattered soul streaming Light

>

>

>

> All along the walks inside the Garden,

> Love's Garden of Sweet Delights and Savories,

> there are pieces of Lover's Souls

> snagged up on Heartvines twisting round.

>

> Glittering like an Italian field

> of red Poppies waving-weaving words,

> each fragment of each heart torn

> is whispering something so softly,

> so near-imperceptibly It's being spoken to.

>

> All the tattered remnants are Alive!

> Each one is a new poem unfolding

> as a brighter Color of Love's Expression.

> Entire sheets of some souls

> lie blinking and blossoming,

> bursting into a fragrant Bird of Paradise

> and setting off, aloft,

> Sky-bound, an Aerie-Hound of Heaven!

>

> Trailing cosmic dust and spinning satellites

> about to give off a new language in HeartSounds,

> the Sundered Ones remain under the Darkness,

> swimming in the sense of Freedom Night brings.

>

> Darkness is indeed our Only Friend

> when This Atom-Smashing Dance begins.

> Dance when You have no atoms spinning anymore!

> Dance when You feel the NightSky closing in on You!

> Dance if the heart lies bleeding like a wound,

> like a wounded deer who had its head in the jaws

> of the Divine Lion of Love

> and survived to talk about it!

>

> Oh! We are all a bunch of Headless Wonders

> full of the Wine of offering everything up for Love!

> We spill so much of our Soul's tender honey,

> so many tatters and tears are oozing us out

> like a pattern on the wall from a nightlight.

>

> Delicate, smooth whisperings

> of "Why me? why me? Good God of Mercy, why me?"

> Why indeed Us? And if indeed it is i or thou,

> Good God, that's the Beauty!

>

> Beloved chose this Heart to be the receptivity to

> Love,

> to be the flowering blossom to every bee who seeks a

> Queen.

> Beyond these holes glittering

> with unfathomably Elegant Light,

> there is a single Mouth saying something silently.

>

> It is the Sound of Om

> and it is the tone we set when we Love.

> Loving Love and lifting our Hearts

> to the Fire-fed Sky,

> we offer ourselves as the tinder

> for Sweetest Immolation!

>

> We might all be Buddhist activists

> and each of us is on fire for some Cause!

> We are spilling Zikr's Light out all over the world!

> What a burning we are when we let Beloved strike the

> match!

>

> We are all so many books of blue matches,

> Blue-faced baby God-matches wanting, Longing

> just to Be struck into flame

> by The Beautiful Beloved One!

>

> A tattered patch of Soul still flutters,

> still spills out Light into the Mouths of Lovers.

> Ah! there's only One way to Fill Up on Love,

> we must Spill every drop and then

> turn inside out and blow away across the Earth and

> Heavens

> as some kind of Shiva and Shakti's

> Sacred Ash falling everywhere, Everywhere,

> and Everywhere turns into Love's Face

> streaming tears of Joy and ash and Soul sparkles!

>

> We are just the back door being left open,

> the second fiddle near the maestro.

> We are so much Light leaking from Our Holy Wounds.

> And we are the Bliss-Kiss that Heals the Pain away.

>

> Love,

> Mazie

>

> [by Mazie Lane, Apr. 21, 2002 ]

>

>

> ^^^^^

>

>

> The Song of Love

>

> The Song of Love is Heard only by Love. It is the

> Loving Rhythm of

> Love for and by Itself. Along with the little-known

> practice of

> actually Loving, and Inquiry into the True Nature of

> the Lover, such

> Hearing is more potent than any other so-called

> spiritual discipline,

> until all such disciplines are recognized as only

> the Play of Love.

> The Blessing Sound that Love bestows makes one who

> is ready

> immediately open and empty to receive, devoid of any

> resistance.

> Love's Real Nature is the OneHeart Itself. Only.

>

> The ordinary person dreams in the brain, unaware of

> their True Home

> in the Heart. The Lover lives in the Heart. The

> Lover is Lived by the

> Heart, Awakening to a constant Whisper of the Heart

> to Itself. For

> the Lover, the True Devotee of Love, there is

> nothing but the Joyful

> movement of the Formless Heart into all forms and

> relationships as

> Song itself!

>

> The Lover has no will. No Choice. All such fantasies

> have been

> consumed by the lovely Fire of Love. In the realm

> some call "this

> world", the Lover knows that what they hear is not

> separate from the

> OneHeart in Which all arises and dissolves, Which

> they realize in the

> Heart as their own Self, Singing!

>

> Love hears nothing as greater or lesser, higher or

> lower, better or

> worse, more or less desirable. All is only Love to

> such ears. In the

> state of Love the Lover hears nothing separate from

> the Beloved's

> Voice - Radiance Divine rippling in every direction

> for the sheer

> Magnification of Itself in Mysterious Symphonic

> Wonder. For the

> Lover, Love alone IS, and nothing else.

>

> By persisting in Communion with Love, the Lover

> sheds all recoil from

> Love, until such dry tunes drop away completely,

> revealing That Which

> Is. In such Humility, Love, Which Is Truth, becomes

> the Sacrifice

> Which returns as the Singing Smile, illuminating all

> that does not

> Recognize Itself as Love. Exquisitely, Beloved

> presses so urgently

> down into mortality as a Musical Love Offering to

> that which lingers

> in the forgetfulness of its own True Nature. How

> Happy is the Lover

> to fall into this slipstream of Loving's Bright

> Song, that all may

> enjoy the Delight of Love's Homecoming to Itself,

> the Self of All,

> the Treasure of the Living Light of Heart-broken

> Surrender to the

> deepest Yearning of Being Itself!

>

> Jai to the Inextinguishable, this Ever-living Flame,

> this HeartSong!

>

> LoveAlways,

>

> Bob O'Hearn

>

>

 

 

=====

sarvabhauma_yoga/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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