...is not a moment
but a sighting
of a re-coloring
of that Presence..

...is always a surprise
a radical expression
shining in newness
in that Presence..

...is a reminder
not of how things are
but how we are
as that Presence...

These come
as sunrise or memory
or hurricane
from where we know not
seemingly from out there
in this or that locality..
We back away..
We do know that
a thought
merely passes through
and very soon departs..
In passing it colors
what we recognize as
I am here and now...

searching for an open space it had glimpsed before
a space alive knowing only itself
a pulsing fullness..an understanding joy
which thought is desperate to find.. just once more..
alas our thought has a hidden handicap:
remembering that glimpse as that some-thing
arriving and arriving and arriving
at some gateway..an entrance forbidden..
the key is there with accompanying fear:
fiery dissolution of that thought gone searching..
will it?..can it?..does it..?

Oh that strange
minuscule Atom..
Atom has posed
with planets spinning
with electrons jumping
with self-contradicting
waves and photons..
These secret poses
Over a century
Reveal and conceal
An amazing truth..

Atom smiles slyly
such confusion here..
Yet now and then
A scientist is startled
By a mirror reflection
A poet Behold..
Self-knowing arrives:
My name is Atom
and long enough
have I posed…!

a flow
of many forks
one river source
end in beginning
beginning in end
wholeness transcends..
the river much more
with similar forks
reflecting the source..
this river story
perhaps it's location
unclear:  out there
or in here..?
if no answer
a True Story...

a lowering bright sun
seeks dark forms for
splashing its light..
OR
day's end bright sunlight
exploring and discovering
finding its rays
in many dark forms
made of light...

Evolution...

Attention
Implies a focus
a narrowing of
Our Wide Angle..
This narrowing seems
Necessary to see
The red robin and to
Heed the red light
At an intersection..
But the rub arrives
When we linger
In our attention
Forgetting
Our Wide Angle..
Bringing anguish
Accenting our
Attention...

Attention

Appears to be a directed perceiving of what

Shows up in line of sight..nothing startling

About that boring clarity..until we consider:

Attention demands a viewer and an array

Of objects asserting themselves..and we may or

May not notice sitting quietly in a dark corner

An assumption of separation..a quiet deception..

Dissolving the deception..nothing remains

But playing appearances..entering and

Departing from seemingly nowhere..and an

Aroma of real and not real..solid and not..

Also..entering the playground are thoughts of

Attention and a viewer and an array of

Objects..this new trio of players..front and center..

Arriving from nowhere...

attention
on what is called
manifestation
should be accompanied
with simultaneous
Recognition of these
fleeting scenes
within You..through which
they are passing...

We are attracted to stuff
Because of their stealth
To make us happy..alas
A happiness short-lived..
One day after many tours
Many failed promises
We stand still and a Vastness
Of happiness drops upon us
From nowhere at all..and
We know it has ever been so..
We recognize that all of those
Early ventures were also this
Vastness gently coaxing...

"If God is God, God isn't good.
If God is good, God isn't God."

**These words ring out
as life's challenge
to a Different experience..
Our settled beliefs
from innocent years
'tho threatened
by struggle and loss
still may shout
of independence
with attachments intact..
Yet the occasional
fright and unease
of a missing something
begins our search..
From going to and fro
in the earth
from walking up and
down on it
to at last discover
our beliefs can burn
in a tired ash heap..
A twig of love
from the ruin springs
and we recognize:
That which we
always have been...

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...?

There is the belief
(Standing for centuries)
Of those colors seeming
To appear in vistas found
In this and that place..
In this season..perhaps
We might Recognize
Real joy comes from
Dissolving the distances
And simply allowing
The rise of the colors
In our Openness...

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...!

Our dreams
have within
a possible
Awakening
a new birth
of joy and light
Knowing we dream
and dreaming
a new dream
Are you awake
Right now?

Could it be this simple..?

Allowing life as it is

Not to worry about the "I" as unawakened

Allow that unawakened I to do as it pleases

Perhaps walking down a path seeking to

Find what seems to be missing..

All of these appearances..appearing in

What is marvelously happening...

Awakening..?

The sleep is deep

And the dream is unchecked..

We have our roles which we

Claim without Question..

Until the Question arises

Shaking our dreamscape

Our role lacks solidity

And the persuasive voice

So long on stage..seems to

Drift without anchor..

A final Question arises:

Who is is that is

Awakening...

Life seems as
To be aware..
Of the dangers
Of the joys..
Yet we ask
Is there more..
Dreams there are
Happenings strange..
And sometimes we
Ask this question
Quickly dismissed:
Is waking day
Really a dream..
After all this
One question remains
Is Awareness
Before all this
Waiting our waking…

Why not see

awareness as expanding and constricting

of our common consciousness..

We then hasten to see that most folks

live lives of constriction

believing their consciousness

is strictly their own..

Constriction has its importance

in a most persistent solid world

finding common sense in gripping

those life and death demands..

Meanwhile if we are so bold

making here a concession to time:

Awareness waits patiently

poised as the space between these words

for our joyful discovery

of an expanded version of myself

and my knowing henceforth

that that is what I Am...

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...

In this place which
is not a place..
Our Awareness is aware
of itself..
With the inhale
sense the oneness
this transparent
high vibratory glow..
No objects attending
just Awareness aware
of itself.
Then the exhale
returns the object world
transformed in Now..
We project those objects
and find them immersed
in our lingering glow
with exclamation:
delicious..!
beautiful..!

She expressed again
what others have known..
the ironing chore found
quietly calming
bringing sometimes
bliss to a day..
What is behind this
smoothing of wrinkles
which serves such
wellbeing and peace..?
Perhaps we find here
in striking resemblance
an old story..
night becomes day
martha becomes mary
as our wrinkles
are pressed..
With thanks to Bette
her example and sevice
and for this new
ironingboard parable...!

remains attached
through autumn winds
which fell others..
a high perch
overlooking Halloween..
Will I watch
on the frightful night
from my high vantage..?
or a sudden drop
to lawn or gutter
a carpet then for
young tramping feet..?
These fearful questions
we all ask
until remembering
what we truly Are...

Our yard is sheltered
high board fence with trees..
Only I know and see
this she-deer lying then standing
sheltered on this Easter eve..
Alert as ever with swiveling ears
each of my in-door sounds
is entered in her registry..
So this connection of
mis-trust and rest
makes her life..and ours..
until sometime when
mis-trust finds real rest
that of eternal
already Now...

Bill shot a baleful glance in her direction (see below)
and so what might be said of this Bill?
He is likely projecting what lies inside:
a mini-self dwelling in seeming separation..
In his birth Bill was open and trailing the light
but his birth and forgetting led him to prison
as we all find our prison leaving our birthright..
Yes..we have our life joys..these serve as comfort
as the prison walls assert again and again..
The prison is also filled with grace
sending a message of Comfort in many dark hours..
Bill..we all hope..receives his message one day
and then knows his prison anew..simply a shadow
blocking his view..
So..now assume Bill has seen..and about that glance:
it is one of Happiness to..let's call her Grace
which has been her name..always...*

(with thanks to William Wordsworth)

bale·ful
ˈbālfəl/"
adjective
threatening harm; menacing.
"Bill shot a baleful glance in her direction"

synonyms: menacing, threatening, unfriendly, hostile, antagonistic, evil, evil-intentioned, vindictive, wicked, nasty, bitter, acrimonious, malevolent, malicious, malignant, malign, sinister;
harmful, injurious, dangerous, destructive, noxious, pernicious, deadly, venomous, poisonous, vitriolic;  literarymalefic, maleficent

A sense of grayness
perhaps of depression
in these holiday days..
times before
we have searched for
restoral
in downtown windows
in company of another
in comforting wine..

This morning we desire
more..more permanence
causeless happiness..
we wish for a bath
washing the hurt..

A warm bath rises
in our awareness..
stepping in to the
immersing water we
find a ******* of
water and warmth..
a body form now
transforms
to water form
shaping our bathing
as only
watery warmth...

Our school days
taught the union
was the prize
from blood and
battled years..
a constitution
survival through
loss unimagined..
but now
this day in
consciousness rise
a hearing and
close listening to
Gettysburg words..
elevating purpose
echoes of equality
teasing new Eyesight
from battled years...

not what
but how
the artist arrives
at the notes
we see..
a whole lifetime
birth entry until
last brushstroke..
struggle and elation
work in progress
until our moment..
path of mystery
the framed photo
the dance twirl
represents...

Water wind and sail
what of the ecstasy
of those who sail..
Those bright mornings
with water at peace
and those evenings
waves rough and roiled..
And the wind spirit
pressing powering and
yes destroying the sail..
The sail holding free
in a moment's haven
poised right there
mid terror and peace..
They know quite well
ecstasy arrives in
becoming the Sail...

beliefs interfere
with any notion
of who we are..
beliefs lodged in
our ego selves
stand as protection
of the ego itself..
beliefs may have
been founded on
a bedrock of truth
but now are
trying to endure
as a curtain
blocking our view
of our luminous
and joyful  
Bedrock...

Wishing for breakfast
before ascending
on high pass road..
Need for nourishing
alertness on winding curves..
The restaurant appeared
in a sudden way..
Anticipating
happiness in satiation..
Then during breakfast
a realization
of happiness fulfilled
but only for this moment..
Temporary
not to be held
but a portion and pointing
to that happiness
Permanent
I am...

Before we can know anything, really..
we must know what the following expresses..
This is our true Identity..which is
always Here..Now..
It is the realization for which the
world longs..and which is readily
available in the Understanding of these
simple lyrics...

Kirtana...I Am

Before the body, before the story,
before the name
Beyond the mind's attempt to find
or explain
Before the breath, beyond the sense
of pleasure or of pain
And after death, and after death, I am

Within the heart, the whole and part
of everything I see
Behind the eyes, beyond disguise, reflecting me
At the silent core, and yet before phenomena began
And after it, and after it, I am

Many differences separate us
on the surface, yes.
But I cannot find a boundary in consciousness
And when you ask me,
where does awareness begin
and does it end
I have to say, I have to say
I've always been

Within the body, without the body,
not subject to
Changing moods or states of health
or points of view
Without needs before the deeds
and the monuments of man
And after them, and after them, I am

Many differences separate us
on the surface, yes.
But I cannot find a boundary
in consciousness
And when you ask me,
where does awareness begin
and does it end
I have to say, I have to say
I've always been

At the silent core,
and yet before phenomena began
And after it, and after it, I am

And before the morning unfolds
we consider our experience
of that in which these
beginnings begin..
Imagining the transparency
of the joyous fullness
from which and in which
and as which
the song emerges...

Observing everything unfold
the world's colors and forms
the body's hidden sensations
all shining in the Silence
of beginning..
The cloud kangaroo
leaping and disappearing..
The chirping welcome of spring..
Memories and thoughts
arriving and departing..
All beginning and ending
in the Silence
which we are...**

(a walking meditation)

This polarity in play
is the pathway of life..
Placed in polarity
life is lived
on Being's edge..
Life surges in youth
our edge we find..
Edge is becoming
and we forget
edge also Being
does edge.!
Now to remember
when suffering prompts
and Being light floods..
Hence our discovery:
becoming is only
vibrating Being
and we are a
child once more...

We all have
This sensation
From time to time..
That something larger
Holds the sensations
Of body and mind
Walking..
Might we assume that
Our larger Self is
Expressing  Itself here..?
The experience expands
To our being dreamed
Being thought and to
The joyfulness of
Being here and now...

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

Retaining dual visions
culture's philosophy
overlooks simplicity
and the power of each of us
to know that we know..
Know that we know
before the cultural blanket
tells us that knowing
requires what is known..
So we ask ourselves
if we know only ourselves
Here and Now..?
Is the I Am of scripture
our most rooted
living experience..?
Is this the secret
best kept by the
centuries..?

With our thoughts and perceptions
we give credence to separation:
a self which experiences the world
the world we have always known..
Better however..an apparent self
seeming to experience an
unfolding world..
Even Better..an unperturbed Self
colored and shaped
but knowing only My Self..
But perhaps Best..simply I am...

This signpost may point
to the place where joy resides..
A knife edge
found at daybreak and sunset
with oppositional guides as
not earth and not sky
a superposition science says..
An intention with poise
may find this sacred edge
with exhilaration and healing..
There arguments are stilled
a place of oneness marked
with a glint of light…

Not eyesight..but clarity
beyond words:
The illuminating clarity
which one finds inside
and discovers in another..
Whether beggar or wealthy
the common light
is spellbinding..
Not to be understood
apparently
by those whose clarity
remains befuddled and
dimmed..