I could sit on the train forever
Going somewhere
Going nowhere,
My heart an empty space
Through which love travels
Carrying me as passenger.
energy
A Question Of Mooji
I need no more than this
Easy breath,
In which all that is free
Is contained
Or actually left unrestrained
So that I am no longer different
From all I perceive.
Is freedom just this release
From the me
I thought leashed
To separation’s identity?
Can I be free of freedom
So there is nothing left,
Nothing left
From which to flee?
The Heart Sun
The sun gives
Without question,
Pulsing with energy
In an ever outward movement,
Gifting without requirement,
Being because it is.
And we, the myriad life
In all our forms
Receive this gift,
And dance
In light transformed,
Wholly containing it.
The inner sun,
The sun of our heart
Is not different
Or a photon less
Than its heavenly reflection
Benevolent beyond our sky.
Divine Mother
The mother gives
The gift, the life, the energy.
She is
In the shape of
The mother beyond the world,
Who breathes life
Into existence.
The mother is deity in earthly form,
No less than God
But no more than the mothers
In time, who populate the ages,
And bring new life
Time and time again.
They are her
As she is them.
In their hearts
They know her
Although not all resonate
With her full magnitude.
When she gives
The world is more
For she is the blood in the veins
And breath coming freely,
Filling the lungs,
And elevating the body
And the mind
With the gift of Source
Given infinitely
As a stream of love without end.
The New News
Turn away the eyes
And comfort the ears:
Let the news fade
So all the angry voices are quietened,
Their fear lessened,
Their turmoil stilled,
The mangled knot of fractions thought
Fermenting doom and worse
Popped in the corner and ignored.
What is the real news,
The new news
Born in the self centre,
In the place that is no place,
The voice speaking
Of heart
And love
And truth,
That we are more
Than these jagged thoughts
Blown out of all proportion
And enlarged
Into flagrant monsters?
We are more than this:
More in the quiet place,
The stillness,
The ever expanding space
Of new ideas
Made from nothing.
The time has come to acknowledge love
And its infinite yet subtle process,
It’s utter gift,
It’s ubiquitous and never failing availability;
For it is free for all to take their fill,
And given wholly
To ever single one of us.
Source
The flower of my heart
Blooms on a stem
Of gossamer energy,
Upsurging from the world
Behind the world,
The space that is formless.
My heart smiles on me
As the heart behind the heart smiles,
As love comes
Like a river from the source:
Like a river from the source
Provided endlessly.
Only In Love
When we are not love
We are but the echo of the past
Thrown into the future,
For as we were made
So shall we make the world.
Only in love
Are we exposed,
Waking from the dream
Of happening without volition,
Happening without choice or will.
Only in love
Can we see the bones
Of being,
And choose,
Choose our way through.
Love Is
Love is movement,
A gift,
Unowned
Yet given.
You can not hold it
Only ask
Or make a beautiful wish
Or speak a prayer
To expand and broaden the world.
It is not yours
But you may use it,
Feel the expansion
As it flows away,
Your life acknowledged
As it leaves,
Yourself made Infinitely fertile.
For as it is given
The well refills
The source expands
And you are changed,
Lighter for the affirmation,
Joyous because you are more,
Loving because you gave it all away.
Where Else?
What is there to discover
Beyond the warm heart?
What need is there
That the warm heart cannot vanquish?
I would settle here,
In the valley of green possibility
Where dreams manifest
In the twinkling of a joyful eye.
I would rest awhile,
Sit quietly on a rock
And watch the day unfold,
Listening to the silence and the twittering birds.
For the day is as broad as being
And warm on my upturned face,
My eyelids resting comfortably closed.
And I can hardly discern
If it’s the sun’s touch
That so warms,
Or some inward principle
At the centre of me.
Always Here
You are always here.
Sometimes, I turn away,
Riding the maelstrom of my thoughts
Until I’m dizzy,
But you are always here.
And Sometimes my mind strays
Convoluted paths
To past and futures imaginary,
But still you are always here.
I remember when I thought you were not,
Couldn’t even imagine
A way out of the bubble of my loneliness,
Seeing only glimpses to highlight
My misery at being so lost;
But you were always here.
If you are self or God,
Or even make believe,
I am glad that you are always here
Because you are always here.
distilledvoice 