Wealth

It’s a feeling,

Warm as a scent-laden breeze,

The succulent breath

Of a fertile night

Rich with possibility.

It speaks, and says,

“the universe is infinite,

And you,

One with it,

Part of it,

Every molecule bathed,

Are infinite too.

Drink of me,

Be drunk in me,

Wealth is love

Bubbling as creation’s

Spring;

Only through you

What is seen

Is seen.

Join the feeling

As the bee joins

Summers fecundity,

As beings all

Rise aloft

Life’s indomitable spirit.

Wealth is yours,

Your essence,

Your birthright,

And the deeper truth

Of your reality.”

The Great River

I lie back

In the great river,

Its warm waters

Lapping at my cheek,

My chin and my forehead.

The great liquid of the world

Holds me with a tenuous grip,

Perhaps only a nudge

Upon a gently idling whirlpool.

My chest holds my heart to the sun

And I am open as a child

Yet to learn.

There is sunshine on my thoughts

And eyes, closed

For the meandering of the heart

And wisdom’s language,

Subtle as the currents

Baring me.

I am alive in trust,

Surrendered to the water’s movement,

Guided by it,

Content to be borne

Where its great waters will.

Falling Into Nothing

I lean back

And fall into nothing,

Released from the world

So various

And swallowed

So the tight knot of ideas,

Beliefs and concrete thoughts

That I called myself,

Melts away

Until I am naked

But for my essential self,

Zeroed in formlessness.

When I return,

Pick up my thoughts,

They are loose upon my back,

Less important

Than the warmth of love

Irrigating my being,

And somehow charged

By the seeing.

I am reborn in myself

As myself,

Free in my body

And free in my mind.

Where else but nowhere,

Being nothing but being,

Can you be free

Of the entanglements

Of the physical world?

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.

Love

Love sees you

Dwelling shameful,

Harbouring secret thoughts

Too ugly to own,

And puts its hand upon your shoulder,

Turns your face

Towards the sun

And whispers

‘You are not alone in this

For I hold all in warmth,

And all your shameful thought

Is but a heavy weight

You need not lug about

Nor even believe.

Come out

From the shadow of your thinking,

There is no weight in love

Only fullness

Of the heart absolved

And the infinite wealth

Of joyous being.’