a visit to starbucks
and I tore this cupband message
claimed by oprah winfrey:

"You are here not to shrink down
to less, but to blossom into more of who
you really are."

this sunday pm gift
embeds the question
the perennial question:
who am I..?
perhaps also asking:
what am I..?

could life be so simple
as engaging the mind
tangling with these
most simple queries..
and finally surrendering
allowing at last
an Awareness to
blossom and proclaim:
this am I...

So often engaged
With our attending
All of those
Editorials
And commentaries
And sermons..
Of which often
Side-track and delay
That awakening
Transformation
Quiet watching
Of this Now
Which is passing…

Where are you?
the Earliest question
repeats
we find other
questions
and other answers
and then answers
without questions
these are the
noise
of our lives
the Earliest question
always returning and
at last may
find our attention
introducing
Silence in noise
and then
Silence.

Teachers of the spirit
advise scant minimum
of words to
approach more closely
the real truth..
Word and sentence
divide contemplation
subject and object dualisms
splits and names
mind and ego
a bucket of worms..
But we must
speak and teach
make concession to ego
to cleanse visions
climb from the pit..
Silence remains
encloses all separation
and waits to be found
with assist from those
words...

From SILENCE
We emerge
And find a world
Of dual things..
All separated with
Clarity..and so there is
A tacit agreement
That this clarity
Is where we are and
Have always been..

That is..until the
Polarities in life
Are sighted..suggesting
A relational clarity
Bringing satisfaction
Now and then
Until it doesn't..

Our search continues
To find a Wholeness
Of enduring value..
To rid ourself of that
Frag feeling which
Lurks to **** us in..

Then to discover
A direct path..with a
A bypassing of
All of the trip wires
Which tripped us before..
And recognizing our
SILENCE once more
As our Wholeness
We have ever sought...

God has been named and created
from an image of separation..
The creation retains the illusory separation
in a reality which searches to close the gap..
Resistance rises in the form of a-theism
and in the twin dilemma of
belief and non-belief..
New birthing cries out
for recognition that any name
only points to the Infinite
named as Consciousness..
Yet..alas..another name for
the unnamable..
Silence works best...!

Walking
and a photograph of a
sunlit cloud seemingly
next by a tree
with similar features..
This is Subjectivity
expressing itself
in Similarity..
We see things
as we are
not as they are..

A questioning arising
From the vicissitudes
Of life..the constant flux..
We seem as a ball
Bouncing from this locale
To that..desires pulling
To hoped satisfactions..
At long last..the mind asks
What or Why or When  
Opening our emptiness
Quieting the questions
Introducing ourselves to
A new Recognition...

Each creates all that appears..
This truth which startles
each longs to experience..
Simply..
Each longs to be free
of Newton's hold
but the freeing presents
as lonely folly..
Simply..
It seems each uniqueness
must dare to experience
this old new truth..
Simply..
The pumpkins and gods
all new creations each creates
soon vanish..
Simply..
That which remains
turns..dissolves..and Knows..
Simply...

Perhaps science is nearing
the truth that we are..
Saying without naming
that Consciousness came first..
Within and as Consciousness
everything arises and becomes
a Simulation..a seeming Other...
And this Other
made of  Consciousness
may choose to simulate its Other..
This simple understanding
burns the confusion binding us all
through eons of time...

Sinking

we have a glimpse
an early understanding
of who we are..
the glimpse gained entry
via thoughts and feelings..

with this glimpse
the ego arises
draped as thought
and feeling
and makes mention
with congratulatory
exuberance..that we
have at long last
discovered our self..

but in quiet moments
the ego is afraid of
the vast blue sea
which we also have
glimpsed..surrounding
these thoughts and
feelings..

we have a cultured
ego which has been
living protected for
these..our many years..
but now the sea
threatens our self:
as sea stories
often end
in sinking...

First the attraction
a morning sighting
of new spring warmth..
that initial penetrating
of sun's rays
an altered state..
then drifting clouds
breeze and chill
disappointment aroused
the earlier promise
seemed unfulfilled..
some alternations then
clouds and sun
is morning truth..
feeling the shadows
yield and not
clouds there are
bringing the sun...

she uses this
formula
her silent retreats..
sitting seems upper
writing lower..
walking connects
feet to earth
spine to sky
finding movement..
hand and pen
in motion
word flow
reflecting...

This name
she gave
to that ego
we know
and don't know..
Out of humility
the self ITSELF
declares..
a simple entrance
but never alone..
accompanying is
a serpentine
uncoiling
some large and
some small..
our life chore
is recognition
keeping our Eye
on these our
slithering friends..
and knowing
no matter how
skinny they
don't disappear..
and this more:
their fond wish
merely to grow..

days of tears
with this darkness..
our reasoning blunted..
repetitions..
layers out there
and within..
beginnings now
Slivers of light...?

a question
of our time
it seems..
are we in slumber..?
Is this
a failure of
distinction..
gray boring blends..?
Or..
does our slumber
rest on
stark distinctions
organic explosions
expressed flesh and blood..?
What if..
this frame and wheels
assembled and with
waking motion--
a strong push
this wagon given..
along a path
toward the light...?

A world of separate objects
Has been the province of science
For centuries following centuries..
But now an occasional shudder
Cast by an uneasy perception
That our roots in separation
Have been only a useful dream..
The dream has turned sour
And has drawn a darkened film
Over eyes..eyes seeking  
Understanding in the shadows..
New discoveries find Fields
Of openness and not-knowing
Leading a few scientists to
A science cleared of slumber...

Landscapes
easily overwhelm
but with persistence
each is multitude
of relational smaller..
recognize and
watch it expand
fill the mind
and universe...

He favored this poem
but never explained
the one named Smoke
by Henry David Thoreau
remembered Walden fame
Was the poem a mirror
reflecting a life
in fullness lived?

a pilot as Icarius
youthful ascents of flight
Were his pinions melted
in one upward climb?
Then a sharp descent
may have in the mirror appeared
discovering atomic paths
searching for particles
in their hidden depths
An Icarian bird once more
in a new pursuit?
Facing dangers in
desert flashes
like Icarius moving
much too close to
elemental light?

Or else
smoke thins and thickens
No more circling above
leaving his nest now
pursuing literary truth
where darkness also
has its due
Shading light from sun
and stars
Enabling students to
see anew
Imaginations soaring to
heights and depths

But he remembers still
a life complete and whole
Does he find any need
for pardon for this
his own clear flame?

I'll end this verse with
a sound some would
call a chime
This because 'til now
just one line did rhyme!

on this sunny occasion
I with my iPhone became
an observer..positioning..
for not-posed snapshots..
in such manner
the photo shows the
in-between..those moments
when a knowing re-asserts..
a masking responsibility
softly subsides..
sometimes it is a photo
of longing for home
beyond the distance...

seems to be a healing process
in which a sensation within Being
is found immersed as separate stuff
in a warm bath of an infinite sea..
If the separate stuff is painful
the comforting image seems
as a healing balm..Why not?
With a continuing experience
we might find in our comfort
a subtle recognition of that
persistent claim of separation..
There must be a deeper comfort..
Might it be:
the feeling understanding that
Seawater and wavewater
are simply Water...

when
ecstasy blooms and
landscape turns to
soaring flight..
these are times
our light within
experiences our
soaring...

There is fear
Planted by closeness..
By warnings posted in
The world without..
Closeness they say
Will be sharing of a
Microscopic terrorist
Lurking in our breath
Poised to leap when
The distance is right..

Is this admonition
Begging a turn inward to
Locate that place
Which is not a place
Where distance dissolves
In a newfound Calm...?

Separation insists
on our fleshly solidity
and fragmentary lives..
Perceptions daily strengthen
the confining argument..
We wish for transparency..for melting..
And search for relief
in idolatrous ways..
Until--
Transparency is experienced
as the real self
melting away the too solid flesh
which had convinced
in our discomfort
all those years...

The first step seems to be
escaping from the exile
which something seems to be..
The exile is the feeling
that an impossible task looms and
I have been chosen so wrongly..
The exile remains until
some recognition of freedom
says that the exile is in me
and not me in the exile..
It seems we must allow the exile
whatever it is
and the thought that upholds
to simply be
and eventually melt
into a sea of freedom...

it is the dark shading
the tightly sealed blind
denying the light
at our core..
with the darkness
the creation feels
alone..separated and
fear shouts out..
explosions express the
darkness and isolation
with deafening sounds
and telltale sparks..
but dare I say
the sparks remind us
through the horror
of the shaded light...

Speak as your real "I"
**Who are we really
each of us..
most seem to answer
with answers which name
or automatically point to
some immediacy of
each body and mind..
hopefully a teacher
within or without
on each path
reveals the falsity
of such confinement..!
a receipt of this
astonishing news:
you are not
after being convinced
for these decades
the I of your
cold assumptions..
and moreover henceforth
you can speak
without leaning on
the I of your discomfort
but now with
sweet freedom as
your real I...

speculation
is the use of the mind
attempting to discover what is possible
to discover..using the mind..
often there seems to be no sense
of limitation..as the endeavor
indefinitely moves
on and on..

speculation
tries to unify the parts
assumed separated..and
we have gone many miles
as speculation lighted the way..
but we now seem to be
at the end of the road built
by speculation..
might we find futility in
pressing on
at the end of the road...?

We speculate and are amused
by the questions we raise..
All questions..however..
reduce to one question:  What am I..?
We discover all speculations and amusements
seem temporary..entering and exiting..
but we sense there is something that
does not enter and exit..and whatever that is
seems to be what I really am..
All of the speculations and amusements
then are experienced within this
newly discovered something which I now know..
Speculations and amusements are
found to be real..and joyfully made of
the something I am...

Speculations and Amusements

*We speculate and are amused
by the questions we raise..
All questions..however..
reduce to one question:  What am I..?
We discover all speculations and amusements
seem temporary..entering and exiting..
but we sense there is something that
does not enter and exit..and whatever that is
seems to be what I really am..
All of the speculations and amusements
then are experienced within this
newly discovered something which I now know..
Speculations and amusements are
found to be real..and joyfully made of
the something I am...

I am Aware that I am Aware
this common experience
negates the claims
of matter's independence..
Matter gained renown
from the ancient Greeks
though over  centuries..
alas..never was found..
Attending our experience
demonstrates once more
that Awareness stands
aware of itself..
So called matter
is the cultural wool
pulled over our eyes..
Veiling the Awareness
which in desperation
we seek..!

Whether we know or not
Our experience is always
Spontaneous..
Our Moment is shaped
And colored
And expresses
Always..our Self..yet
Our minds leap to separate
And label..rendering
False impressions of  Self..
Allowing our minds to
Leap unnoticed
Takes us from Home on
More and more journeys..while
Reecognition of Home comes
On one Spontaneous
Journey...!

The wind paddles

Rotating in a gentle wind

Seem as time wheel until

We recognize: There is

Spontaneity on display in the

Paddle and wind and sunshine..

Spontaneity introduces

No-thing as that which

Appears in this small

Episode out of time...

Step by step
science seems to be
reaching or pointing
to a new science
a quantum reality
in which time itself
the thought of time
as only a thought
a simple vibration
experienced only in
a spontaneous Now...

SPRING is chirping..
just now..a SPRING walk..
SPRING forms a birdsong
imagined on a high branch...
No skill in naming the bird..!
Attention shifts to the warming sun
to the sprouting dandelions
to shining white on the distant Peak
to melting of  recent snow:
these many SPRING songs..
I am SPRING
shaping and returning
as each footstep
rises and falls...

A research ship
In Antarctic ice
Beyond rescue
Awaiting a melt..
This one nadir
Of earth's winter..
In other latitudes
Cold fronts bring
Chill winter winds..
In these days
Our memories serve
With faith intent
Of quick departures
From cold depths
From the dark
Springtime rising…

What is so appealing..?
It seems this glass
covers it All
the landscape entire..
Those artificial boundaries
are superimposed thought
with the message:
nothing left out
nothing unimportant..
Boundaries seem to fade
announcing their departure
and separation's
myth...

The cup label said
Let us add a bit of  Joy
To your day..

This is a message
From our culture
Informing us of the
Experience of Joy
To wit..Joy is available
Here and now within
This very cup..

Presumably then as this
Cup is consumed
Joy ends and we are
Sent on our way
Until another cup offers
A bit more..

Perhaps the Sacrament
Suggests we need look
For a cup in which Joy
Is much less fleeting...

Start..being the Sun

Being the Light within..as

Illumination alone..

We know..As the Sun knows

Before gazing outward..

Now..A new Recognition:

Our Light projects within

What appears as out there..

We have arrived..our

Light being everything...

There is
an experience of
inner luminosity in
each of us..where
we need to start..
All out there colors
but does not change
our starting place..
Starting out there
starts with splintering
endures as suffering
and endless searching
for that hidden
way to Start...

Should be the teacher's motive..
It is an acquaintance
By the Teacher of her
Own Identity..

Starting elsewhere..in a textbook
In a settled belief..only serves
To diminish the teacher and to
Guarantee a quick departure of
The thing that is intended
To be taught..a Recognition that

Textbooks and beliefs are
Unsteady tools of Truth which
May be discarded in
A more favorable Wind...