Tag Archives: beyond

inhabit inhabiting

I have been so

inhabited

with thoughts

about what

many others

are thinking and have put forth

that, in effect,

I have stopped

thinking.

 

As this

recognizing,

may I newly dawn,

as the sun does

when blanketing the ground with light,

as music

pervading this inner space

and beyond.

~

I am

content

to dwell

in and as

the cracks between

the world-as-we-know-it.

 

The gaps

are teeming with life

hardly once recognized.

 

I am

this life

and this life responds

within itself

as itself

and in concert

with itself,

even while teeming

as chaos.

 

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inter

-weaving
as we go
unseen character
infuses lesser known
gods of titration
and arbitration
snow crystal
monument
just under foot


Interweaving ground:sky

3 poems from northern New Mexico

arriving with the full moon ~ July 10, 11 2014

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IMG_2178

while camping near the Kagyu Mila Guru Stupa, north of Questa, NM

1. What Pause

We have our things

Even if we have very little

or essentially nothing

Not threadbare are any of us

And some semblance of things

is brought together, even if

just to drink this or eat that

 

We can sit on the ground

The body will sleep when it comes time

the preoccupation of belongings

is such a high order in our lives

that it is nearly invisible

 

I pause to think, as if thinking is

the way, how to live

on the land with no amenities

 

It seems preposterous

Just sit on the ground?

Rest under a tree?

Wait until batteries run out

and then be silent?

 

As if Silence was not there

all along

Everything we eat, drink, sleep

is there in the Silence

 

Everything we are

is that Silence

 

2. Doorway: Empty As

We love an entry into.

Leave an opening

And something will move thru

Even if just pretend.

So when we really go thru

What then?

 

Is there no going back?

We’ve moved between

And are never the same.

Something has passed

From here to there

And back again is only onward.

 

We pine for what was

Looking thru What Is

Trying to see something

Other than

What simply is, Just This.

 

And pining, things just look the same

But never are

Or are so inextricably

The same it would take

The widest open eyes

To see This

And not see something else.

 

Perhaps it is the putting aside

Of what the eyes see

And letting things be

As empty as they are

Each thing a doorway

To itself

Nothing more, nothing less.

 

In that entry

We move as all direction

Within and without

Leaving nothing aside

Going nowhere but everywhere

Without departure.

 

And the openings

Await nonetheless

Waiting as the perceivable

In the perceiving

As they are

As they are.

 

3. Do and Not Do

When there is nothing to do

Something seems to be found to do

It’s a circus we didn’t even

realize we had tickets for

and have been going to

all so regularly

 

It looks like life

And yet life isn’t doing

Life just happens

All on its own

No tickets necessary!

There is no grand entry, no backstage

 

Just ask the wind

the thunder

the rain

None of these need permission

And cannot be kept

Under lock and key

 

There is no one to pay

Even if that makes us

Feel more real somehow

 

We have so many wallets

all around and everywhere

Most of them hidden away

(what are we protecting, really?)

But there they are

What good would it be

if we didn’t find ways to fill them?

 

Is it a question of good?

Or is it a question of a day

yet upon us when all

bartering ceases

 

And something yet known,

however already conceived,

bursts forth taking us

as we are

as our most direct

Unfettered, alive beyond word

 

Nothing need be done

The question of do and not do

Too will cease

Vastness Conjuring

I say these things
You laugh

What heart are we
And where

The attachments fall so
Heavily at my feet

Stubbing toes and more
I Am That

Does it matter where
I Am

Relax, says the sky
I am here

You can’t go anywhere
Without me

This vastness answers
All my questions

Just because they appear
To be moving

Doesn’t mean the clouds
Abandon us

You have finally stumbled
Across my breadcrumbs

Now it’s my turn to laugh
Because you are the path

Finding your way home
Could never be easier

Conjuring vastness
There a hundred fold reward

Who has strayed
Off the path perhaps me

Order is never lost
Only found that single garment

A dazzling raiment
As I plainly step out of my skin

The absolute waiting
Beyond comprehension

A stillness not
Measured nor breathed

Paths converge
Never having been split

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Stir The Pot (taste the life)

With each veil, whether opaque or transparent
There you are, such that the phenomenon
Of ‘behind’ a veil takes on a new slant.
You’ve redefined it for me in the juxtapositions
You carry, heavily, awkwardly, and some tenderly.

For ‘behind’ becomes ‘out in front,’ the evening drunkenness
Marries with the sober mess of another day
Creating one breathtaking yet somber step
In the choreography of this life, the life
You have surreptitiously invited me to witness.

Which of these veils lay, in their transparency,
Across your heart? How do you know
Your own heart when that which obscures lends
Its fashioning to nearly every breath you take?
What, in your own private ken, can take your breath away?

Why not let it be so even here, even now.
Regardless of what it could bring, what could
Be said of you, of the other. Melt, like the snows,
That brick of larder sheltered in the walk-in
Of the kitchen of your existence. Taste.

What is here. Taste. Join me in the life that is yours.
Join me in taking in the smells, the fragrances.
Yes, you may suffer immunity from those. Walk
Anew into your own life through my eyes,
Landing there in a freshness that is Timeless.

May these words beckon to you in the way
Your touch has softened something in me,
Even in your withholding. For touch is beyond
Flesh, includes flesh, is the origins of flesh,
Something more than the senses that sees, hears, and listens yet.

Re: Point of Reference*

.

There comes a point

It’s coming into focus

Scanning it, seeing

What it is, might be

.

Reference points all

Around outside inside

Cascading the senses

What to measure or

.

Score

Nothing

No need

Or is there

.

There comes a point

When seeing is seeing

Not a tool to shape

Reality map-out frame

.

Barter coordinate banter

Store hold hand-hold

Tether tie keep

Sure secure free

.

Advantage to what

Who pays the piper

What lock to key

Surveyor’s level rod

.

There comes a point

When no point is

True measure in the

Long or the short of it

.

Seeing

Only

Only

Seeing

.

And as that reference

One to another as

Other to one

We are

.

Searching

The crosshairs

Behold beyond

That I Am

.

.

* new title and layout of an earlier poem

Like This

The earth is like this to me
ha bowne doewn doewn na na na
The sky is like this
swee swee swee na la
And the snow
haaah so so hey sshhh

Oh so so, you BelovedDSCN0355
where and what are you 
to me or to we -- swee
swee na na na so so hey

The river the river the river
sallaway sallaway saraney
eoinden eoinden snaei
The sun shaping of shadow
like this like this
(silently) (silently)

When do we when do we
anina ani na ohw ohw
How do we how do we
like this like this