Happiness

The heart that is no heart,

Broken yet whole,

Fluid in the nothing,

Being in the free,

Disintegrated beyond particle

And solitude,

Blended and indistinct,

Dying and alive,

Timelessly destroyed,

Obliterated,

Overwhelmed

And pounded from existence

Into existence’s open arms,

Until nameless,

Until faceless,

Until placeless.

My Friend

The Scots pine glows red-skinned

In the morning light.

He is always there,

Watching over my life.

Sometimes he stands out,

As beautiful as beauty itself,

And sometimes he is invisible.

Today, his presence is called

And warbled by the birds

Hopping among his branches.

The breeze too has its say

In the vibration of a myriad needles.

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.