Like The Clock

Like the clock

Whose ticking

You no longer hear,

And like the picture

You pass every day

That’s almost disappeared,

And like the wedding band

On your finger,

Now part of you,

And like the beautiful view

These days seldom seen:

Like these

Being is present

As it’s always been,

There, at the centre of you,

The background of you,

The you of you:

Knowable only in its knowing,

Realised only in realisation,

Noticed only when you notice

You are.

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.

Really, That Simple?

Is it really

As simple

As remembering love,

Acknowledging

The love in being

And that being is love?

Is it as simple

As turning one’s head,

Looking inward

To the source

And seeing

That source is love?

Is it that simple

To notice the beautiful

Hidden before your eyes,

Hidden in plain sight,

Love at your centre

Brimming where it has always dwelt,

Love waiting with open arms

For you to see

And be one

With your heart,

Finally coming home

To the home you already are?

The Paradox Of Separate Worlds

In the this singular world,

This individual,

Personal reality

In which I am centre

And no other exists

But as myriad watching faces,

(Equally individual

And no less personal,

Yet experienced by me

As face, not world),

I see my thoughts

Only my thoughts,

And you see yours,

Only yours.

And we will never know each other,

For you,

As I

Are master artist,

Applying a veneer

To all

Upon which our thoughts alight.

And we’ll never really meet

Or experience

The truth

Of our separate realities,

For all I see is me

And all you see is yours,

Except in the richness

And depth of our being

Where we are undivided,

Sharing wholly

The abundance of love.

Love Fills

I am lifted upon a cloud

As light as love

As playful and transient

As love,

Making no mark upon the world

But indelible significance.

For what else lifts us

In the body?

What else

Conveys the clouds,

Makes the moon the delicious moon

And the sun magnificent?

Even when we are down,

Crowded by thoughts,

Living beaten

By the throng of our thinking,

Still we are lifted

And still we are born

In the world and of the world,

Love in everything

Despite our tenacious denial.

How long can we hold

To absence, and the idea

Of heartless universe?

A lifetime, perhaps?

Or perhaps,

There is instantaneous recognition

That loves fills

And always has.

In The Feeling

In the feeling

All that was future

And past

Is gathered

To the beautiful, unfolding now.

You,

Withdrawn from scattered self

With eyes only for the world

And the things in it,

Are returned inward

To yourself,

Finding that you are whole

As you have always been,

And full of love

For every wrong turn

That lead you to the truth.

Never were you parted

Never were you alone

Never were you distant

From wisdom’s place

And the heart song

Singing

Life’s simple authenticity.

You are the outpouring of self,

Fresh and new and crisp

To the world

And joyous

In the living of it.