The Yoga Of Friendship

Dearest friend

I could sit in the silence of our being

And dwell satisfied

In the knowledge

That we are joined in the heart of our life,

For our friendship

Is not based on superfluous traits

But deep seated

And deep rooted

And deep found

In the beginnings of our self

Where we are one:

One, to the exclusion of other,

One, to the exclusion of else,

Simply and only one,

Where friendship is shared

And where all that seemed separate

Is found to be joined

And all that seemed divided

Is unified and whole.

I Love You

Who are you

Being

That I should love you

With but the love you bring,

For in your arms

I am loved

By the love

Only the beloved sings.

Is this a paradox of madness,

Imagination’s great leap

Into the unknown?

No, for I know you

⁃ Warmth of sweetest certainly –

For you come to me

As me,

And only as the One

Are you One being.

Oh, if I could but convey

That which I don’t understand!

If only I could muster what I feel

Through the heart’s open eye

And write the truth,

Evoke the love so evocative.

Yet,

Truly I am failing,

Though thankful to try,

For with each attempt,

Each unsuccessful bid

To describe the indescribable

I am drawn closer in

And likewise

The world is infused,

Being

Free

Every where, when and thing

In boundlessness.

And all that I am?

But a momentarily eddy in the energy sea

Arising as

⁃ I love you –

Like a strand of luminous,

Ephemeral light

Written on nothing

Yet somehow said,

And yet

Unsaid

And yet somehow still happening.

The Fluid Sea

The fluid sea washes

On the shores of myself,

Half mix

Of night’s starlight

Swirling among phosphorus blooms,

A myriad microorganisms

Mirroring heavenly cosmos.

I feel salt sea

The brine waters of myself

Pulsing in time

With all the universe,

For I am half mix

Of cosmos

Swirling skyward,

And the earthen matter

Transfixed and tied by gravity.

I am

But the fluid sea

Speaking in waves,

My pen sketching moonlight slithers

Silvering the cusp

Of words,

Half mix

Of universe

And the brine-like being

Bathing me.

Stable Ground

For all the gifts

The world would offer,

None is more than passing,

None less transient

Than the clouds

Ever changing face and form.

Who and what

Finds immunity

From THIS law?

What in all that slips

And falls apart

And wears out

And degrades

Offers immutability’s

Stable ground?

None but formlessness

None but nothing’s something

None but silence’s empty space.

Only here in nowhere

Where there is none but one

Is peace unnamed,

Unmade and unhappening.

The Moment Is Fresh

The moment is fresh

As dew-lubricated leaves

New from the womb of the world.

Oh, this sweet, empty moment,

Virgin as the first born thing,

How can I describe your unresistance

With but the clumsy word?

For you are nothing:

An endless, friendly nothing

Holding me in your arms,

Tender as the loving heart

Welcoming all that is.

You, who is no you,

You, who is everything

Seen and unseen,

Everything unformed or dwelling unchanging

In that which is not yet made.

The moment is fresh

And alive with infinite spirit,

And while the dogged mists and moods

Of false thoughts,

So seemingly bonded and glued,

Drift upon me from time to time,

Obscuring your brilliance,

They too, are born in you,

They too, arise in the light

Of awareness’s presence,

Taking their life

From the very light that you are.