Close Your Eyes

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.

Sharing Love

At first

There is an arm around your shoulder

As you realise

Your mind has spiralled in fear,

But then love

Hugs to your being

As if you were lifted,

Buoyed upon the heart’s

Opening up.

And now in the eyes

And in the body

Warmth flows,

And to look upon the world

Is to look in love,

For love loves

To all else’s detriment.

And even to look upon fear

With love is to understand:

It’s to offer a hand

To what seemed unloveable

And know it inert,

Know it powerless,

Know it wholly loved,

For fear is but a thought

Held shadowy,

Fear is the mind shunning

It’s greater nature,

Fear is the heartless mind

Mired in calculation,

Holding out

Yet awaiting its moment;

The inevitable cascade of love,

The overwhelming truth of God,

The totality asserting itself

Over separateness

And the illusion

That love is not the all of it.

Truth

These days the truth seems elusive:

The certainties we took for granted

Are dissolving into a mix of twisted

And frightening realities.

Who to trust now

When all around are pushing

Agendas and fake news?

Trust in the inner truth of self

For there is a wellspring of energy

Beyond the realms of ‘not enough’.

Always and ever present

The heart’s voice speaks

In fearlessness:

The now in which we live

Is safe,

A flow of abundance

And ever-giving wealth.

Know this as being

Know this being as yourself,

For in being

The noise of fractious multitudes

Quietens and ebbs,

Even their voices

Are imbued with love.

The truth is never elusive

When we dissolve

And trust in trust,

The truth is always,

Always in love.

When The Noise Stops

When the noise stops,

When the machine of thinking thoughts

Slows to a lull

Or is brought silent

In a moment of

Concentration.

When the worker sets down his tools,

Rests a while,

Leaves his ideas alone,

Then,

In this pause,

This relaxation,

The love that was always there

Is seemingly exposed,

And Life,

Beautiful and whole

Is known in fullness.

From The Ashes

From the ashes of my beliefs

Awakes the child of myself,

Born into the moment.

Can he remain true

To the idealess

Realm of his beginnings

Or must he age

In the world,

Heavier with each moment,

Each new belief?

Is the ageing process

And stiffening up

An illusion

In which we dwell

Stiffer and more unwell

In the hardening carapace

Of personality’s

Hard work and upkeep?

Or is the child unblemished,

Cocooned in the now,

Eternally fresh,

Ideas burned to ash

Under his gaze,

Illusions

Nothing but ciders

In the presence

Of his presence?

Where Is Heaven?

Where is heaven?

Only here

With the past drawn up

And collected

Like the skirts of time

Were no longer historic,

Nor paid much mind,

The future too

Is clawed back home

Until the now is pure and plump

And filled to brimming with love:

And the measurement of things

Is scrapped

And swapped

For the absolute value

Of the universe,

The self brought

Wholly to heart.

Do Not Fear

The heart says

Do not fear

Even if the danger seems imminent.

You must act

For the body’s safety

And as the conscience decrees,

Of course and most wisely,

But not from fear,

Not from an idea of future doom.

For the future is unborn,

Made of imaginings

And infinite potential

And all the combined karmas of the world:

And who can know that conundrum?

The now, however, is filled with love

And made of love

And witnessed by love,

And so too are all possible futures

Despite the dark veneers

That might come to pass.

And surely these dark illusions

Will tempt and prod

And precipitate

Any knot of fear held within the body,

Inviting the mind

To follow their bitter prospectuses

To a seemingly pitiful demise.

And perhaps you will be ensnared,

Caught fearful and flapping,

Making up facts

To fit the worry

You’ve whisked into a maelstrom.

Yet, you might pause

When fear offers its seductive hand,

Pause in the precious moment,

A moment with no past

Or combined future,

Just the here

In being and beauty –

A beauty never once touched

By fear’s tarnishing word.

And in this quite,

The heart’s voice

Offers silence

In a hundred multiples of love,

And fills the dawn

And itself in one

As love is unveiled

In its entirety,

Ever unfettered,

Never annulled

And never ever diminished.

Equality Of Being

We fret

For the things in the world:

How many,

Which ones we should get,

Their value,

How they make us look and feel

As if

Our arbitrary

Systems and scales

Were in fact

Real

And not at all made up.

What we forget

Is the equality of seeing,

How each

Has an equal

Eye upon the world,

An equal stake in being.

The vagrant on the street

Is no less

Than the champagne oligarch:

The poor man Is

As the rich man Is;

They are one

In the space of seeing

Where being rises

Fresh to the crisp now.

And so,

Out our minds go

To squabble for resources,

Ever waring

Over the importance

Of tiny little pretty things,

While the fact of our being

And our seeing

And the one who sees

Is sunk under mounds of stuff

That once attained

Lose their sheen and their gleam,

Dulling in the ignorance

Of our self

To our self.