Poetry

You are that great stillness. So still that nothing is. Even before nothing is. In that stillness, before are. No such thing as a thing to define a nothing.

In this you, movement appears. It has always been, before time. It is time. The birth of time. Time and movement are one. Lovers inseparable from one another.
This great love, giving birth to form.
All that is, and all is now, in this moment. In time.

You, moving, in time, loving form into existence. Existence has appeared. Infinitely loving itself, exploring infinite potential. Taking form, peering out of that form. For the first time, for eternity, seeing itself, the lovers dancing from that point in… you. 

You, before a thing in time. You before there is any movement, any thing, in time to be before. You, before any you come into being. You, the inexpressible, before any expression appears. 

Infinite emptiness.

Start from any point. Go there, penetrate all movement. Awareness back to its origins. From there, observe how you, existence come into being. Partake as all unfold, all visible from inside all points, when no point is held. You, awareness, free from any limitation.

You, moving, time, space. Like an artistic pen making paper and ink so it may express itself upon it.

You making love, a child is born into existence. Born from its parents’ flesh, growing into its own person, perpetuating its nature, the movement of its origin.

On the edge of infinity, it comes near. Reaching for a thought to make something, anything recognized be.
It’s empty I know, the illusion I know.
Still it is sought with so much need.
Empty comfort as piercing gaze intense clear and empty burns in me. Burn me to the ground.
Vibrating, flowing, ringing high. Shapes, worlds and forms quickly come and go.
So much perceived, so little known.
Serene comfort letting me, nothing and all be. This is what is sought.

I wish I was a tree, said the acorn to the water drop.

You believe too much in the idea of your own shell, said the water drop to the acorn as it let go and drizzled down the side of the acorn.

Let me tell you a story…

I am a little drop, I have also been a river, an ocean and a cloud. Yet I have never changed. I effortlessly take on different forms as I’m not holding on to any form. My essence is the emptiness that defines and embraces all forms. I am the dance of existence, each step in the dance a form appearing and disappearing instantly. Holding on to a form would cast me into the illusion of that form and I would cease to dance freely. 

And you, an acorn is not a tree. Yet you are part of the tree.

Separate from the whole, yet held in the whole as a part of it.

A acorn longing to dance, trying so hard to become like the infinite tree. Wanting to merge with it, to dissolve itself into the mighty tree.

The acorn tried everything and got no closer to becoming a tree. One day she got tired of trying. She finally relaxed her efforts and decided to let go of what she knew. She fell, and fell…

Then to her own amazement, no longer focusing her attention on becoming the tree, she perceives a small knowing inside of herself. Silent as a whisper yet with the force of a moving continent. She starts to listen and slowly she awakens to her own true nature, she is not just a small acorn but the potential of a whole tree, inside her own small self. She is the timeless potential birthing all trees.

All she needs to do is nothing. Just stop doing, to get out of her own way.  To let her own nature dance its dance of existence and then she is transformed into that new, all embracing mighty tree she always longed for. Giving birth to new acorns, new journeys of struggle, surrender and self discovery. All a part of, and itself the rhythmic dance of existence.

You see, said the drop, if a little acorn is too afraid to feel the pain of breaking the shell that protects her, she will never see that the same shell is also that which encloses her potential. As long as the shell remains she will never grow. The acorn needs to stop holding on to what it thinks it is or what it wants to become. To just be what she is will allow her true nature to dance and that will break the shell.

Indeed to lose its form over and over, transcend itself again and again until it realizes that it has no form, it exists only as the dance, always transforming. 

Then it will embrace the earth, drink the rain, dance in the wind, be kissed by the sun and reach to the sky. This will birth new life in the endless dance. 

You, the acorn, one with it all.

Do not strive for any state. It’s enough to just see what is active in you right now in the present moment. Do absolutely nothing with it. Do not make any movement. Do not fear or hold on to whatever comes. It’s enough to just observe deeply, let the light of pure awareness shine without effort. In that light all that is hidden will eventually be revealed. All that is not true will burn away. Neither thought or illusion can remain in that light. What will remain is truth. Vast empty infinity holding all finite. Loose yourself in that.

I used to move about in the world, looking at it.
Now the world moves about in me and I look at myself in it.

You knock on my every door, window and gate, every secret passage I did not know in the dark. You wish to escape that chilly evening gale. But it is you. Lay yourself to rest and die and see that what remains is the pleasant warmth of day.

I am a flower.
In the dark of night I retract behind my leaves and hide my brilliant colors from the world.

I am a flower.
There is a distant echo of radiant beauty, but in this dark night I hide my self deep inside. Behind these veils I am separated and blind to the world and it to me. I dont know what is going on and its a fearful world out there. As I turn my gaze inside I am met with love and it begs me to open up just a little bit. I trust and I let myself go. Radiant light enters my being, my core vibrates with the suns love. There is no darkness, it was just my vision that was closed. I had retracted from the cosmic dance behind a wall I couldnt see. Now I marvel at the beauty everywhere and that beauty is my own reflection.

Reality a constant movement, always moving in and out of dimensions, creating and collapsing both forms and dimensions ceaselessly. All of this in awareness, silently observed. Nothing fixed, nothing defined. That is the nature of reality. As a human mind I want to define things, understand them. Freeze the eternal movement so it can be grasped. Like a still photo of a couple dancing, from studying that photo I create my illusory reality, oblivious to the fact that the dancers have long ago left that pose, never to return. In the same way we crystalize reality and create an illusion in mind we call reality. Only when we let go of all, deep down in the layers, structures, form, time. Anything that can be understood, then do we enter back into the live flow of reality again. Not just crystalized moments trickling down from it. Become the dance and the dancers instead of studying an old photo of 2 dancers.

Any attempt at understanding that dance so wild in its nature that it cannot be understood in any other way than being one with it brings about separation from reality and creates an illusion.