You can dial into love
As simply as smelling a rose,
As simply as taking a breath.
Dial into love
And feel the love that you feel:
It doesn’t matter if it’s for a pet,
A person alive or dead,
It doesn’t matter:
The warmth of love is the same.
Dial in to love:
Love that love:
Love and be loved
And step into the expanding realm
Swelling in your heart’s domain.
Taste the love that loves,
The love you have always been.
The Indian ocean,
In which the setting sun
Falls golden
To the wetted lips
Of waves infinite,
Speaks in white-water rumbles,
And the wind pulses warmly on my skin
And tussles at my hair.
–
These and much else
Call the mind to their sensational happening
And I feel my body in the world,
Sights and sounds
All around me.
–
But what is this me
In which the world appears?
What perceives
The golden mirror to the absolute west,
Laid upon the sea
Like an avenue,
The last light before dusk?
–
If, for a moment
I withdraw from my sun-warmed skin,
The buffeting wind
And my hair rustling like leaves,
What can I say
About being?
–
What can I say about the one
Who perceives these beautiful things,
The one who sees
The fishing boats heading out
To catch the night fish?
–
I try again,
Withdrawing from the worldly things,
Saying aloud “I am”;
Finding its resonance,
That to which the portal refers,
And fall from the sensational skin
And the light fading
And the wind’s playfulness.
–
I fall away into I,
Into dimensionless I,
Into love and well-being
And that which is indescribable,
That which defies the poet
And renders him
To nothing but inescapable warmth.
–
And then I open my eyes
To the perfect globe of the sun,
A ball of orange
Muted by the horizon’s haze,
And find being hauled with me
Like the fishermen’s silver clad nets
That come to the surface so bountiful.
–
Now, being seems wholly in the world,
In everything within earshot and gaze.
The waves are speaking
As if each drop were lubricated,
Each molecule part of the soft fluid whole.
And the wind too is a song
Of whispers gathered by the clouds,
Lovingly caressing
Those who’d be gladly touched.
–
Who is infusing
And who is infused?
It does not matter much
In beingness,
For no one but the One exists,
No one but the One
Is flushed by love,
No one but the One
Is as open as the universe is.
Whatever it be
Love conquers,
Not by show of force
But by soft movement,
Gentle allowing
And acceptance,
The truth unveiled
That there never was a thing apart
From love’s flow unbounded.
For a moment the thing:
Form, thought or emotion
Seems separate and real,
But what are borders
To the whole of God
But traces of nothing
Like ripples rippling
Upon the water’s edge,
Occurring but memoryless,
Fading at the very moment they arise.
In the falling freshness
We are at once
Energised and washed clean,
For in the frothing
We are nameless
And without language.
We know each as children
Playing in the stream,
Wet by the flowing moment
And doused
By ever-giving.
There are smiles
And gestures of friendship;
Locked arms to help traverse
The white water,
And brotherliness
In our shared refreshment.
All that we know of our selves
Is battered from our skin
By innumerable pelting droplets
And carried away downstream.
What is left
Is a thoughtless happening
Wetting us to oneness
And joining us
To the waterfall’s
Cool and cascading being.
Who is touched by grace?
For that one,
Separate an isolated,
Is washed away
As every cell bursts forth exuberant,
Every cell
A sun in its own right,
Burning in conjunction
With infinity.
Who burns in cosmic nuclear fusion
But the cosmos itself,
Alive with life’s infinite potentiality.
–
Who have I been?
I have walked as a dead man,
Dragging the corpse
Of dull seeing,
Sluggish and blind to the truth
Of unknowable life
Electric in the creation of the
Mind/body/world.
I have walked without wonder
In the wonderful,
Walked barefoot
Dismissing the cool grass,
Breathing the divine essence
And calling it ordinary.
I have looked
But missed my astonishment,
Daubing reality
With the dank dross of ignorance,
Overlooking the immense power
Contained even within a simple seed.
Of course,
The quick and clever mind Conceptualised
The quantum physics of germination,
And I did not taste
The end of the world
Exploding in bud, shoot and inevitable tree.
Oh, life,
I glimpse
But do not know you,
I taste
but do not know you,
I feel
Only the minutest drop of grace,
But drop to my knees dumbfounded,
Zeroed in the face of it all,
Pulverised and purified,
Awed
And silenced utterly.
I am caught
In a wave of well-being,
Picked up
By the surge,
Borne upon its energy
Until I glow
As fierce
As if sunshine
Were burning
In the heart of every cell,
Inundating body and mind,
And holding me
Up and afloat,
Buoyant and light.
I sip the sweet elixir of possibility,
Taste the unbound
And find there
Nothing but the self unshackled.
What can we be
When we step from the tight
Groove of routine,
The preprogrammed and forethought track.
I do not conceive the answer
But sense that which is not yet born,
That free form,
Unfettered and dreamy.
I drink of this possibility
Becoming drunk on love,
Bathing in the fluid of possibility alone;
A not knowing
As broad as a river,
Deepening and widening
And carrying me happily along.
When the mind quietens
The sun shines
Internally radiant,
Offering love
In the entirety of its being.
–
As I am shining
I am bathing
In the warmth
That irrigates the body/mind.
–
Could it really be
That such a (no)thing
Could go unnoticed,
This most apparent (no)thing
Somehow overlooked?
–
And so eclipsed,
The universe of being
Seems cold and absent,
The self crystallised in ideas
And apparently imprisoned.
–
Rigid in the un-rigid,
We call incarceration ourself
And suffer the consequences of belief,
Pained because we cling,
Hurting because we identify with stiffness
In all that is only fluid.
–
But when the mind quietens
The sun shines
Internally radiant,
Offering love
In such abundance.
–
And as I am shining,
Bathing in the warmth
That irrigates the body/mind,
I see that irrespective of the mind’s condition,
Love shines
In the entirety of being.
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 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.
distilledvoice 