What Is This Love?

What is this love

That firms the heart’s placement

And allows the lower guts

A secure knowing I,

For it speaks

Not in words

But in certainties,

Like deep roots

On which feelings

Draw support

For the body’s gross material.

And here there is knowing

That first in the world

Is the evergy body,

Like a current in the energy sea

In which all things are but component,

A dancing trace of a self

More nymph or laughter of light

Frequencing high, high, high

As electric thought

Transmitted.

This unshadowed being,

Swiftest eddie of soul untied,

Is our truth

Before the body,

Our elemental self

Free in the zest of freedom’s whole,

Free energy

Illuminating itself

Within itself,

Playfulness playing free

In all being,

The you before

Condensation in to form,

The lightest you

Unformed, unclothed and unprecipitated.

I Call Them Home

I call all my wants home

For each is like a hungry dog

Pulling hard on a rope,

Salivating

With the scent

Of satisfaction:

A dog’s belief

That things in the world

Can fulfil

Happiness.

I call them all:

The multitudes, the horde,

The ravenous pack – ever unfulfilled,

And whisper gently to them:

Sleep here by the fireside.

In my flame is the universal

– Burning without fuel

But for the fuel of the everlasting self.

Dine here

Where there is abundance

In sweet cornucopia.

Feed on that which is eternal

And drink from the ever brimming cup.

Do not look upon the world

For sustenance,

For it has nothing to give:

Look only to offer it love.

I Love You

Who are you

Being

That I should love you

With but the love you bring,

For in your arms

I am loved

By the love

Only the beloved sings.

Is this a paradox of madness,

Imagination’s great leap

Into the unknown?

No, for I know you

⁃ Warmth of sweetest certainly –

For you come to me

As me,

And only as the One

Are you One being.

Oh, if I could but convey

That which I don’t understand!

If only I could muster what I feel

Through the heart’s open eye

And write the truth,

Evoke the love so evocative.

Yet,

Truly I am failing,

Though thankful to try,

For with each attempt,

Each unsuccessful bid

To describe the indescribable

I am drawn closer in

And likewise

The world is infused,

Being

Free

Every where, when and thing

In boundlessness.

And all that I am?

But a momentarily eddy in the energy sea

Arising as

⁃ I love you –

Like a strand of luminous,

Ephemeral light

Written on nothing

Yet somehow said,

And yet

Unsaid

And yet somehow still happening.

The Fluid Sea

The fluid sea washes

On the shores of myself,

Half mix

Of night’s starlight

Swirling among phosphorus blooms,

A myriad microorganisms

Mirroring heavenly cosmos.

I feel salt sea

The brine waters of myself

Pulsing in time

With all the universe,

For I am half mix

Of cosmos

Swirling skyward,

And the earthen matter

Transfixed and tied by gravity.

I am

But the fluid sea

Speaking in waves,

My pen sketching moonlight slithers

Silvering the cusp

Of words,

Half mix

Of universe

And the brine-like being

Bathing me.

Stable Ground

For all the gifts

The world would offer,

None is more than passing,

None less transient

Than the clouds

Ever changing face and form.

Who and what

Finds immunity

From THIS law?

What in all that slips

And falls apart

And wears out

And degrades

Offers immutability’s

Stable ground?

None but formlessness

None but nothing’s something

None but silence’s empty space.

Only here in nowhere

Where there is none but one

Is peace unnamed,

Unmade and unhappening.

Meditation

First, I settle

And then

As if drifting

I am dipped in the liquid of being

And go whole

Into that golden sea,

The light sea

Where there are no beginnings.

And in those unfathomed waters

All that was

Is indistinguishable,

All that could be

Is likewise nullified,

All things of form

Answer the call,

Returning home to the source

To be free.

Yet when I arise,

When I put on my clothes,

My mind and my body,

I feel the warm nakedness of truth,

A drop of that sea

Lubricating all things

With wonder,

A single infinite drop

Baptising all with its light.

Single Eternal Note

I won’t go into the day save to say it was grim as an overcast sky, hungover and car sick. But now, on a beach polished golden by late afternoon light, two cold beers – my companions, refreshment beading bottle-green glass and glugged so thirstily, the whole of reality is changed, altered.

The wind moves constant through the pines, and unseen birds twitter: Vibrating needles hum a single eternal note.

The tide is in, lapping gently in the push of cool waters. Oystercatchers shrill low over the glistening brine, every wavelet capturing the blinding sun.

Moored sailboats jostle anonymous, swayed by tide, current and breeze, their lanyards chink, chink, chinking, tolling a finger-tapping rhythm, a morse code of freshness.

The wind moves constant through the pines, and unseen birds twitter: Vibrating needles hum a single eternal note.

The sun is on my back like a hug from behind. I look up, and the beach is near deserted. My companions are spent and silent, drunk.

The sunbathers have packed up, leaving but a memory’s shape pressed in the sand. Only a lone young woman remains, sitting on the wall, reading. There is a deep silence inside her, a peace made of the ever-flowing wind.

The wind moves constant through the pines, and unseen birds twitter: Vibrating needles hum a single eternal note.

Behind the woman is the row of trees from which the birds twitter. Their trunk-bodies are sculpted by the air; their faces swept clean; their hair creaking; their needles vibrating with the sound of reality.

I can taste the world, the whole world, brought by the wind and the twittering birds, constant in the fronds of the trees, creaking gently.

The wind moves constant through the pines, and unseen birds twitter: Vibrating needles hum a single eternal note.

I can feel the world, the whole world, called by the wind and the bird’s constant twittering, and the oystercatchers cutting the sunlight from the waves, and the chink, chink chinking of lanyards drumming on aluminium masts.

I know the world, the whole world, found in my broadening heart’s cool waters and the sun’s hug from behind. I know the loving world contained in the constance of silence as the wind moves through the pines and unseen birds twitter; Vibrating needles humming a single eternal note.

Looking Deep

Looking deep

Inside myself,

I find things

In all degree of

Colourful multitude.

But who sees those things,

And from which vantage

Are they lit

And wholly perceived?

And so I turn around

And face the formless face of myself,

The placeless place

Lacking evidence

Of all but being’s

Un-identity.

Am I really nothing

But the looking,

But the seeing,

But the loving

Which loves itself

And loves

As a star illuminates?

For with each glance

The scent of something comes

Which fills my heart,

And when I see the love pass

I look again into nothing

And yet again

I am fulfilled.

And then, not dwelling,

I lift my eyes from the love

Which became alive,

Glance once more

To that which I cannot perceive

And look…….

You Call My Name

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

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.