Wonder lust
In the ever opening eye,
Wider with each glimpse
Of the infinite,
Broader
With its ephemeral taste.
Oh, how I am caught
By allure,
Drawn ever deeper
And called ever on,
Wiling to give my all,
My wholeness
My life
My love,
Hold back
Not a single drop,
Give it up,
Until I have none
Until I am undone
Until I am one.
In love
I am unmeasured by the world
And so I am free
As nothing
But the empty space,
Wide as the universe
Is unknowable,
Deep as starlight
From light years unfathomable,
Unexisting in peace
And effortlessly happy.
What am I?
What am I?
What am I?
Only the taste of falling
Inside myself,
Eternity’s sweetness
Loose on the windless wind,
Unbound and unstuck,
Devoid in the void,
Annihilated formless.
Close your eyes
And go naked to the love
Free in the centre of you.
–
This love
Knows nothing
But being alive
–
And the one nakedness
From which all things are.
Be in being
–
Where all duality
Is dissolved,
Where all that is fragmentary
–
Slips loose,
And even the one who might hold
Is dissolved.
–
Close your eyes
And go naked to the love,
The free being inside.
🙏
Instead the ever outward looking
For love
Turn inside yourself
To that which was always there;
Deepest well of formless infinity,
For there dwells life,
A heart-full of life
In abandonment to love,
Beautiful being of love.
–
There seem to be two options:
A movement into mind
And the stories we tell,
That swirl around
As so much fear.
Or the other way,
In the direction of self,
Detached from the fictions
And free
In the formless realms
So easily overlooked.
–
Instead the ever outward looking
For love
Turn inside yourself
To that which was always there;
Deepest well of formless infinity,
For there dwells life,
A heart-full of life
In abandonment to love,
Beautiful being of love.
All things are drawn
To the crucible of the heart:
None are immune
Or impartial to its force.
And there
The matter of it
Is dissolved,
Brought to equality
And equanimity
By love’s dominance.
All are relieved,
All are forgiven,
For I dwells there
And yet dwells elsewhere
In the same instant,
Covering the whole of it,
Every dimension
And all far reaches.
I, the lover and the loved,
I, the being being,
I, the one and all,
Star-bright and all consuming,
Dematerialising that which it touches.
A breeze strums
The feathers of the Scot’s pine
Towering above my garden,
And a wind chime
Gently interprets
Each gust.
There is a magic in the creak
Of the flexing branch
And the twisting sinews
Of fibrous bark;
An instrument
For the wind’s fulfilment.
Always, a dove coos
When I find the wind-full tree
Of my life
Existing in the silence
Of a tangible happening,
Drawing out the now
From its hiding
Until I am like a finely tuned
Sensing apparatus,
Filled with the sticky movement of sap
And vibrating
With the sweet resonance
Of life’s thrill
Through fronds of waxy needles.
What other life
Could I live
But yours,
The life in you:
Sweetest infinite being.
Is this praise,
To fall into your arms,
To release
Every objectified form
Of its obligation
To fulfil?
For it is surely madness
To look for love
Outside the source of self,
Overlooking the sweetness
For a wearisome search.
Only in you
Is gentle salve,
Only in you
Is satisfaction,
Only in you
Is happiness.
To this, I am devotional
For this great love for you
Is love in me:
There are not two loves,
Not me and not you,
Not two,
For in love
We are one infinite being.
Here in the glistening, twittering light
Of a dewdrop and bird-call morn,
I think back to our meeting
And find I have not left you
Nor feel one increment apart
From the all I found
Inside my heart
And the camaraderie
Of friendship
Couched in being.
To the outside world
Goes the greedy hand
Backed by the greedy mind,
Collecting
Always collecting,
As if
All the stuff of ideas
Would make a person bold
And impervious to time.
–
But how heavy it is,
How imprisoning
This reputation we call ourselves,
How enslaving
To be caged
When the deeper self
Is infinitely free.
–
A thought occurs:
To release the clothes
I thought myself,
To lie back and relax
In nakedness,
For I am not a thing in this world
But that which knows
All myriad happenings.
–
This is my wish for freedom:
A wish that settles like sediment
A wish that diminishes to peace
A wish that quietens to nothing,
Ebbs to wishlessness
And dies like a sunset.
distilledvoice 