You call my name
With the music of your voice
And now I am falling……
–
Falling into your voice,
–
And……
–
I am….
–
Lost in the falling,
Adrift in beauty’s placeless place;
In love with love…
–
Oh, I am….
–
Speechless ………..and wordless
–
Stripped of my meaning
And brought to my knees
Before God….
–
Oh, I am
–
Silenced
–
Silence
Why look for the cause
When the cause is the whole universe
At this very moment,
Karma’s unnumbered strands
Fast in a knot
The shape of reality
Right now!
–
To look for the cause is madness,
When love stands by
Neutral and beneficent,
Allowing the knot
It’s imperfect-perfect life,
Accepting the conundrum
And shining through the unreality of it.
With a sudden thud
A robin
Hit the pane
And dropped.
It brought me from my chair
To cradle its tiny frame
In the cup of my hand.
I watched the last few moments
Of light in its eye
Before it faded away.
What is that light
So easily uncoupled
From the loose body still warm?
What intangible element
Glowed so fierce
Then dimmed over a long moment?
What miracle
This tiny death,
The being unsheathed
With but the stroke between a heartbeat
And the final fall
Of a red breast
That barely made it through a season.
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.
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.
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.
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.
We walked through the night,
The blazing sunshine
Of our hearts
Lighting the way.
–
Where is lack
In this?
Where are dark thoughts
And angst?
–
Exactly where they always were,
But untouched and allowed to be;
For the sunshine of open hearts
Allows, shines on everything equally.
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 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?
distilledvoice 