There are many
and it seems
few which intersect..
Those which meet
soon dismissed and
enter the mist..
A new duality
my story and yours..
What if there is
only One Story
those in mist
are still joined..
In that mist
The Odyssey and
Cold Mountain
are found joined..
In our reading
from that mist
we retrieve..
Enlarging our story
changing our Name...

Deciding
to return is
breathtaking and frames
red becoming blue
a red life
of pleasure and
pain
seems what our
world is and
was
until questions arise
a bird's quick
motion
a fox's intention
and blue appears
on the far
horizon.

March Sunday afternoon
a covered bench
a biting breeze
winter
Transition
small ever-green reflecting
sunlight
reminding of new
green
New light
another Spring.

When we recognize
Time as illusion
As mind created
Same goes for space..

Then we rely
On direct reporting
From our senses
Just the is-ness
Of it all..

Is-ness is 1st
Then the mind
Climbs aboard
Naming and claiming
And is-ness fades
Into the background
Once more and
Once more...

Do we have courage
To write our own..
Turn to our past
Open those portals
Long since bypassed..
Not fleeing once open
Lingering there and there..
Dark passages then
Turning new sides
Textures now strange
Strange and renewed..
Bright lanterns then
Strangely are dim..
All is perspective
Dimensions to gain..
New Name today
What Name might
Portals of tomorrow
yet bring...?

The fixed and static
mostly those nouns
bear our watching..
these are snapshots
fixities in flow
making their claim
as the whole show..!
we should consult
a parable teller
to shift the lights
reveal a new show..
and we need be
especially alert
for those wishing
the teller to go...

Speaking now
in our moment
altered..
might we shift
our perspective
most quickly
below to above..
We then join
in her Light
projecting from
her new dimension
to ours in shadow..
ecstatic with her
in pulling
those sparks from
darkness below...

in our daily
repetitions
our comfort is
habitually nestled
in a sunny welcoming
of familiar pathmarks...

this smoothness short-lived
when unease finds play..
a once familiar mark
registers differently
our fittings and
complacency disturbed
distressed...

a grasping then
for restoral..
sometimes when darkly
shocked
in disturbed awareness
we are astonished
a minor tweak
resolves into a
path entirely new...

We compose our
poems
each unique voice
from our source
experience of life
ebb and flow..
finding our words
do they speak
to the poet alone..?
or need we
constrict
find a clarity
to converse
favoring those..
not to forget
our original flow
elevating restoring
a unique soul...

we all came
science does say
from a dot
a pinpoint
expanding
to all this..

but where is
that dot..?
if we say
where we live
in our 3D
preposterous it seems..

if we say
in higher dimension
in our 4D
there would be
no space for us
no time or locality..

so we try once more
not 3D not 4D
but in between..
our universe
that dot is
local in no locality...?

Ancient Natives
of Earth
and others in-lighted
have found linkage
Earth and Sky..
Imagine then know
Earth a new form
of the Sky..
A simple relation
remembered
enriched their days..
A Truth
available always
to penetrate
our longing...*

*polarityinplay

In a patch of sundried earth
dark cracks emerge.. forms resembling maps
remembered from schooldays and Google..
Appearance of arbitrary lines depicting
States newborn..
Our everyday maps also born of the Sun..
the Sun's artistry with rainfall..the points
of assembly of water in place and flow..forms of
unique identities each subdivided patch..
Raising the question of new possibility of finding
an Awareness.. becoming the Sun and seeing
the patches and lines and States anew
as images projected.. from that projector..
those many miles away...

Being
separated, fragmented
split and broken
disassembled
With new Joy
rejoined
now elevated
and being now
is a new Being
being
Bestirred...

Our daily concessions
to those illusionary
separate selves:
lifetimes of weekdays
in working worlds
these convince us
that we know all
there is to know..
But for those hints
which simply arrive
midst all the toil:
we cry out
now I Know...

to good people fall..
on this question
faith and trust
hang and fade....
heat and passion
bitter rejection
all gain entrance..
these separators
further separate..
our duality roars
with new strength..
then with fortune
a healing balm
ancient Oneness
blooms and will
bloom again...

What might we see
in the background
with the big stories
as foreground
in this
the dawning new year..

Social media connecting us all
viral and instantaneous
a quantum heading..

Virtual Reality teaches
how reality is sourced
in consciousness..
like dreaming and waking..

The Cloud is consciousness
with discovery that the smart home
is made of the Cloud..

Autonomous driving
soothing for congestion and stress
Autonomy names Awareness
and driving derives..!

Cars polarity powered
cleaning the choking
plugging in and wiping clean..

A day of reckoning of greed
recognizing the separate self
egos are fading..

Smartphones a temporary
interconnection finds
way station en-route to
our Real Self..

A new billion
entering the conversation
waking to commonality
of our shared Self..

Artificial intelligence
tools of the mind
rising within and as
Consciousness
I am...

A new day
with immediate choices
Time
segmenting and expecting
mapping a day
fine tuning with
polish
becoming the map?
a shadow lengthens
Rewinding the day
silence and light
breathing
Light
a map unfolds
a shadow fades.

serving as candyman
this spooky evening
an evening of Treat..
but the Trick
where is it hiding..?
it must be there
in those masks
or those sacks
because the Trick
is the spice
the shadows
leaves crunching
the flashlights
this magic night...!

forced concessions
to the State..
this constriction
of content
unleashed his
creativity..
for us then:
our facing of
constriction
we might grasp
as preferred seed..
confident now
of new expression
surprise release..
until constricted
unexpected...

Sergei Prokofiev (1897-1953)
Romeo and Juliet

Doors
slightly ajar
providing a glimmer
but then
darkness again
Casting differently now
the glimmer is ours
patience wears thickly
a dark joy
glimmers,
Off to work...

The observer
in
biocentrism
is
a propitious step
away
from the object enticement
we
have believed so long..
And
The observer
is
posed as creator
yet
we ask:  who is observing..?
Where
is Consciousness in biocentrism..?
Seemingly
Consciousness remains lodged
in
the head and
we
have not yet reached
a
realization of the
illusory
nature of an independent
world...

this hawaiian dream
of a feathery supercluster
connecting strands of light..
one feather for now
but is this one
of one bird
in one flock..
our minds wander
and weaken
no answer there
Who am I...?

His legacy is large
as he leaves his
life-sustaining technology
behind..
He leaves behind also
this quote:
"The greatest enemy of
knowledge is not ignorance,
it is the illusion of knowledge."

Knowledge
often masquerades
as wholeness
claiming more than
its limited span..
Knowledge as thought
appears in our Self
is made of our Self
but cannot know
our infinite Self...

Our Thanks, Stephen Hawking...

reaching the trailhead
a decision made
seemed sudden
not timebound..
little sunlight remained
but something energized
a decision to
enter the trail
to reach the end
before darknight fell..
the original plan
was otherwise
rendering this decision
as a surprise..
does Awakening work
in this simple way:
enough of planning
charting and maps
no more procedures
and books to follow..
the Now decides
and we are walked...

evening reflection
of departing Sun
tonight three quarters
brilliance and shadow
awaiting new evening
a fuller reflection..
our shadows are
of varying fractions..
might we hope
for a fuller moon
on some days...

awareness as our oneness
as energetic substance
surrounds and penetrates
really all in all..
yet we are here
my table
my pen
my paper
my poem
my self..
and what is awareness
doing this morning..?
investigating what it
makes of itself:
table
pen
paper
poem
self...

Our minds project and name:
this realization is rumbling
underneath our shadows and struggle..
Is it not amazing
that externals are projections
awaiting..but not long.. for their names
eagerly provided by heady minds..
This realization reverses
our notions..those heady beliefs
of separation as wisely undeniable..
Although the rumbling often seems
fleeting and faint
not reportable in shadowy newsdays
real Happiness is found seeping in...

cold front near
evergreens sense chill
waving in dark..
imagining
becoming
one evergreen
those branches
needles..
bracing
for chill…

A gathering of
light
allows life in
full
experiencing our day
our doings
and goings
as constricting but
holding
the light bringing
fulfillment
ecstasy.

The rabbit scampered across the yard
then back again to a starting point..
This is to isolate one of a plethora of
seeming random happenings of nature
in my yard this morning..
Bringing to attention the private
nature of the rabbit's perceptions..
We might imagine the excursions of
the rabbit's mind..but to soon realize
these are but our own excursions..
But what is there holding those
excursions: the rabbit's and mine..?
Whatever That is
is our common world..
That through two special glasses
morphs into two private excursions
along with those many more
taking place in my morning world...

Experience

How
does Experience
appear..?
Mainly it is flowing
sometimes swift
sometimes gathering..
It is the
temporary seeing
and hearing which
the river can teach..
We make a shift:
the river separated
to the river within..
And when the river
is found within
we know then
the river is made
of what we are..
This subtle shift
experienced
is all of
Experience
we can know...

Sitting in a spacious hotel lobby
which enclosed a carpet with repeating designs
Large TVs with changing projections on screens
These assertions of apparent separations in life
Two boys playing pool and a narrator on TV
speaking with all certainty proclaiming his side
A swinging lamp in pendular motion announced
the obvious rulership of linear time
However, remembering now that all these are
the making and iterations and extensions which
brighten in the light of our Awareness
But not yet home these brightened extensions
remind us that Awareness is only aware of itself
Next time might we start in Awareness and
watch the extensions arrive  ?

a periphery
word seems key
to each her own
identity..
the painter explores
what is out there
in forest and sea
finding those words
which other painters
have already stroked..
our perennial question:
where is originality
or is this distinction
simply and always
Tangential...

from our dream of separation
to heed grace's call
to find the peace
and the happiness
which we seek
in all the
wrong
places...!

the cat in the sun
warmth with ease
interrupted by a
swallowtail soaring
circling
the cat stirs
from her quiet
something ancient calls
and in a close circle
a leap to join
merge with the path
but alas for the cat
an impossible wish
and now
just the sun
and rest
but now a bird
on the feeder..
all these distractions
from the sun
our distractions
the cat and I...