Soft Wind

Love shall not come from you
in your time of need.

You who shall for now not sing
thy song of dreams so sweet,
will in time be folded into
the dawn of timeless wonder.

Fear not your journey my friend;
fear not your dreams nor your foe.

Timeless is your night-time.
Endless shall be thy dance.

Why in times gone past?
Questions raised with no answers.
Indeed movement sways the weary.

Untold shall be sung.
Forever is not your time.

You are here as the source of all.
Can you not here the rhythm?
Can you not smell the sweet wine?

So many journeys unfold
in a criss-cross of tumbling twine.
Unfolding yields not to those
who puzzle over it.

Forgive me once and
in time we shall proceed.
Forgive me twice and
I have erred again.
Shall I learn in time
thy song from on high.

Is it not silence that speaks
through the highest winds.
Shall I rest tonight, unyielding
to the forces of peril.

Sleep with me and
we shall arise anew.

The old is reborn and
the days are clean.

Sing yea to the unborn.
Sing yea the unsung.

We shall listen and
many shall dance.

Joy comes to the joyous.

Sheep follow the shepherd
into the shearers shed.

Magic shall not come to me
if I remain unseen.

Majesty stands tall
in an empty sky.

Passing clouds pass by.

This is all there is.

This is all.

Sweetness shall touch the sensitive:
those who dare to search the soft winds.

Cloudless mist passing
without the winds of time.

Good may your journey be;
good may be your night be;
good may you be.

You be already that which you are.
You be not your dreams of passion.
You the passing trees on the highway.

Can you not ask me why?
Will I not answer yes?

Trees are passing shades of life;
flowers are passing shades of colour.

That which sees the passing
shall dance forever:
enduring beyond the
veil of dreams.

Who are you my beloved friend?
From whence you have arrived?
To hence shall you go?

I am where I am.
That is where I have come from.
That is where I shall go.

Comings and goings are like waves.
I come and go, yet endlessly I arrive.
I am arriving yet I am already here.
I have gone yet I am still here.
Can you not see me?

I can see you.
In fact I can
see your dreams.
In fact I am you.
Fear not though,
for you am I.

Together shall be this journey of ours.
Lonely shall the alone not be;
it is nigh on impossible my beloved.

Ancient scrolls yield not to your deceptions.
The truth in words is a door.
The doorway is amongst the words,
hidden between the lines.

I pass by you as you pass by me.
I am unseen to those who look away.
I am seen to those who open their hearts.

That which you have done wrong
may in fact be a misunderstanding.
Pass by again when the mind is calm
and your awareness is clear.
You may be surprised.

The answers are hidden;
the dreams are many.

The truth is the unsurpassed.

Religious Convicts

If I have wronged
in the past out of unconsciousness,
this experience is a compressed
energetic reality stored in my being.

It needs to freed by conciousness.
I need to see this experience
through the eyes of awareness.

Imagine then a beast of a man
that has lived a life of jungle madness.
Such a person has much
to experience consciously.

It does not mean that they need
to consciously act out their wrongs.
However such a journey is quite long,
and it is reasonable to envisage
such a person slipping and falling
at times along the way.

This may be an explanation for some - but not all -
that are drawn to religion, yet commit acts of filth.

Transformation

A criminal mind can transform in many ways.
In time lessons patiently traverse the thickened skin.
Conciousness can grow and the sick mind healed.
Unconscious pressures can be released
by controlled explosion.

A new journey in a different realm may beckon.
They may fall victim to love and compassion.
May for the first time they here words
of empathy and understanding.

Completion

Why, for what, from where
comes emotional fire and darkness?
Every humans being has traversed a path
from the conception of space and time itself.

Look at the
origins of our planet;
or even further back,
do you think the 'big-bang'
was a peaceful affair?

Every human being is bestial, civil, and divine.
To ask why we are who we are is to also ask
where are we from and from henceforth we go.

Beyond Good and Evil

The purpose is to learn about the source.

Imagine standing
immobilised on a sleeping volcano.
If we hear warning signs the tendency
is to grab any nearby support:
a friend or foe, a rock a tree;
to gaze at flowers, or smell sweet fragrances;
maybe even make believe a fantasy;
or even create a real atrocity.

If the volcano ruptures
some even try to swim
impossibly and joyously.

The wise learn
to surf the lava flow.
When they come to rest
they do so on a lake
fed by a natural spring.

The mind is cool,
though not glacial.
The heart is open
yet empty.

A force moves through them,
powerful yet tranquil.
The volcano and the spring
are from the same source.

Good and evil
are the dichotomy of the journey.
The key is to know the source
from which this manifests.

Though there be
right and wrong,
awareness lies beyond
both good and evil.

Any moment we can decide
to notice, to witness, whatever is happening
around us, to us, and ultimately in us.

This mirror allows us to
both stare at the fire and
walk towards the light.

We come to know lifes journey;
we come to know we can simply watch this journey;
and ultimately we come to know that our mirror
is but a fragment of the oceanic mirror...Osho.

That there be pure good
or pure evil welcomes misunderstanding.
There is purity that both transforms and reflects,
that both infuses into and transcends, and
that is our ever present nature, our essence.

From the source overfloweth wisdom.

Hidden Evil

If there was no bad in good,
good would exist not at all -
nothing would exist.

However it is that purity
be tainted by shades of grey
is of no comparison to evil
that oft be cloaked
in pretty colours.

We all have secrets in our basement;
however it is for most primarily
an acknowledgement that
we have travelled far.

Yet for others their treacherous secrets
are placed delicately in the attic;
they are worshipped like stars,
and watered like precious flowers.

Sometimes that which
is negative and destructive
in the unconscious mind -
the beast or animal in man -
pushes its way into consciousness.
This is the cold, calculated criminal.

The mind desires so much
to feast on darkness
that it convinces itself that
evil is good and good is evil.

The mind freezes
so as not to feel.
The cogs need to be hardened
to turn in such a fashion.

However the icy-cold machinery
is all along fueled by a
volcanic inferno seeking release.

Such a person is on a journey
to where time slows to a stand-still,
and pressure rises to an inferno.

This may appear unkind, however
it is testimony to the impossibility and
unwillingness to learn from mistakes.

In the West they call it hell.
In the East it is karmic rebirth
into a vastly lower 'life' from.

However in science it is called magnetism.
Darkness comes to those who yearn for it.
Light moves towards those who reach for it.

There is nothing to fear in evil,
yet it is what it is.

The Offering

It is funny
sometimes I wonder why
I write the things I write.

Is it a pretension to stand and speak
of the lofty heights that I either know not,
or that I glimpse only briefly -
and only to fall indeed quite a long way?

Sometimes I think
it is arrogance and delusion,
and that I am simply copying
and combining sweet words.
Yet on reflection it is not so.

Firstly I write
out of a strange compulsion;
there is a sense of urgency
to find any pen and paper
upon which to sprawl a strange
and overwhelming sense of knowing
that dawns on me in an instant.

Secondly I write only of and
from my authentic experiences.
For example at the end
of a year long retreat
the divine opened to me
in a Master's samadhi.

The third reason I write is
because I am hopelessly independent.
I can't stand getting counsel
from wise fools so I write my own.

The final reason I write is as an offering.

The ultimate they say is eternal.
My experience of the flowers of existence
leave me overwhelmed with the sense of this,
yet for me they pass and the mysterious
and magical journey continues.

The Gambler

You can't win
if you don't lose.
You can't try
if you have not won.

Winning cannot be won.
Losing cannot lose anything.

Winners can lose;
losers can win.
Winners can win;
losers can lose.

Is there anything inbetween?

Play to win;
lose to play.

If you lose to win,
you will lose;
if you win to win,
you will also lose.

If you win to lose,
you will win.
If you lose to
neither win nor lose,
you will also win -
though you will
also win nothing.

Wisdom

Wisdom cannot be learnt;
nor can it be purchased.
It can however be shared -
and this is its rarity:
it can be received.

Wisdom is the vehicle used
to share the intelligence
behind the universe;
it is the doorway,
the open invitation,
to glimpse the depth and divinity
of which we are a part.

Wisdom helps take us
beyond our little selves,
immersing us into
divine dissolution.

We can too realise
our path is like a
dew-drop slipping
from the lotus leaf
into the ocean...
and more.

It is not only
that the dew-drop
disappears into the ocean;
it is also that the ocean
has always been
in the dew-drop.

It is just that we have forgotten.
All it takes is to remember.
I am this infinite glimmering presence
that is here and now.

It is simply a choice, a decision, a remembrance.
The journey can be long and arduous,
yet it can end in an effortless eternal instant.

What Matters?

It is not about where you live;
it is about why you live.
It is not about where you are;
it is about where you are at.
It is not about what you are doing;
it is about doing it totally.

It is not what you think that matters;
it is that thinking is happening.
It is not whether I am full;
it is whether I eat fully.

If my attention is spread
it is good to be clear about that.
If my attention is scattered
is my awareness relaxed or tense.

Often times
tension creates scattering creates tension –
and then we wonder how we came to be
in the space we are in.

How can I be heard
when I do not listen?

Sadness

If sadness is with you
let it be remembered
that it is not your nature.

River of Diamonds

Slipping into the silent stream;
it is nigh on impossible to explain;
and certainly inconceibable to imagine.

An endless stream of diamonds
awaits the unsuspecting seeker:
an infinitely silken soft caress
melting into eternity.

The nectar of the gods beckon,
yet we rest impatiently
on the rivers bank.

Resting silently upon the bed,
with only the morning birds
urging the coming dawn,
I slip through my bed
and enter the
stream of liquid diamonds.
The treasure lies under the bed...
don’t look!

Creativity

What is a poet
but a musician
with a pen.

The words dance
in a harmony;
the lines compose a rhythm
that impresses on the soul.

The flute players subtle lips;
the musicians tender fingures;
the dancers flowing limbs; and
the painters dilicate strokes.

Surely a lost spirit
can never be
but a little hidden.

Death

Death dos not come

to those who know,

yet it takes us away

from those who don't.

Life and death are but part

of the flow of

the same silent stream -

passing not to be feared,

yet glorified neither.

Wisdom

Wisdom comes not

from those who think,

nor from those

who believe.

Wisdom is not knowledge;

it is not knowing;

it is not a static state;

it is a transient flux -

in tune with

the flow of existence.

Religion and Religiousness

God will come not

to those who pretend

to be close to her.

It is in the authenticity of each act -

in body, mind, and soul -

...the divine shall grace.

It is in the action not the acting;

it it in the act not the actor.

Transformation comes to the attentive.

Attention to what is secondary,

though empathy is not:

empathy also for one's self.

The Journey

When hence I have finsihed

I will be ready to start;

so much I have learned

along the way.

Yet it is this trudging around,

trying this, letting it go,

and then picking up that,

that is in each moment

an act of fulfillment:

an intuition to try this;

the courage to let go of that;

and the sparkling insight when

the rare jewel called understanding

completes each thunderous step.

In this way nothing can be said

to be completed nor lost;

every loss is a gainm

and every treasure is shared.

However for those lost in the chase

every win is a defeat,

and every loss is a tragedy;

though in time we learn.

Do not be troubled by your drive,

for it is in the very intensity

that you accidentally arrive

in the here and now,

and get it - play hard.

Threads, Tails & Tales

Chose Your Friends Wisely

Those who preach
do not know.
Yet those who know
sometimes preach.


Contemplation

The way forward is inner.


Patience

In times of turmoil
calm has not gone,
for silence is
your very nature.


Fire in the Basement

Some people get surpised
when they here news
of a fire
in someone's basement.
Yet every cellar
has a shackled secret.

Better it be freed.
However don't forget
to call the fire-brigade
if you need.


Distance

Fire is not in your soul,
for you are not that which burns.

The forest laid waste
by a single spark
returns to vibrant green;
yet you are not the forest.


Good Times

Indulge not too long your treasures
for they too shall pass.


Depth

In the dark of night
the wisdom dawns.


Trust

Can you know that you can fly
without first taking the leap?


Possibilities

Those who think
there life is dull
need just remember
those that thought
the world was flat.


Courage

Columbus was not scared
of falling off the edge.
Those with understanding
know their world
is full of wonder
once they gather courage
and take the leap.

Your world is not baron nor empty;
it is full of depth and wonder.


Responsibility

Your chains are
yours alone.
And only you
have the key.

If you can't find it,
better look.
If you still can't find it,
better ask someone
where it is.


Friendliness

A guide can take your hand.
A fellow traveller can
show you the way;
though noone else
can walk for you.


Tarot

Noone else can tell your fortune,
for the fortune is inside ourselves.

The past affects our present,
and maps out our future...

To witness the past fully
releases tremendous energy
and leaves a vast space
and a deep understanding.

Only then the past loses its
grip on the future,
and we can live our lives
unconditioned and in freedom.

Think about the future here and now.
Reflect on the past now not then.


Coming Home

A puzzle is only a puzzle
because it was first complete;
you are no different.

All that need be done
is to return to its
orginal state -
to your original nature.


Coming Home

I think therefore I am;
I am therefore I think.

The mind does not create
being, reality or existence.
It is the other way around.


Kindness

Be kind for
help comes to
those who help.
It is naturall...
in helping you open yourself
to the universal;
in hindering you are closed.
What then can you learn
about the world?


Enter

Love is not the key
that opens the door
to heaven.

There is no key,
nor no lock,
nor even door.

Only there is
a door-way.

And on the other side,
all consuming love -
though you are not.

How could it be otherwise
than that you dissappear;
for what of you
can be left behind
when love has you
enraptured in her grasp.


Writers Block

A beautiful women
graced my way,
and now I can write again.

Like words that can
only show the way to truth,
your beauty cannot be captured.
Yet it is there.

To be graced by beauty,
to be absorbed in truth,
is to be experienced not sought.

It was not that truth or beauty
has shut me out.
It was that I had been closed,
and am now open;
though it comes as a surprise,
for effort cannot gain
that which is sought.


This That

Just because
I am paranoid
does not mean they
aren't out to get me.

Just because I feel
safe and secure
does not mean
I have a false
sense of security.


Explanation

Normally people aren't
out to get me -
it is just my paranoia.

Normally, sometimes,
if I feel safe and secure
it is a false
sense of security.

However it just might be
that when I feel safe and secure
that feeling is a deception.

However I wouldn't want
to be paranoid about it:
because paranoia is or is not real,
and maybe perhaps false,
though definitely possibly entirely justified.
It all depends on the way
things are or are not.


Final Note

And does it matter
if my mind is in dis-cord
with reality?

Well yes of course,
yet ultimately no:
as this is in itself
a reality of sorts -
the natural human condition.

The consciousness in humans
is a hidden thread
of the consciousness
of the whole.

Becoming more conscious
of one's own mind -
whatever that reality may be -
leads one's mind to become
in tune, in step, with reality.

Then what one thinks
fits with reality.
Then what one thinks
is not only in tune with reality;
it is reality; it is truth -
then one thinks no falsity,
although that false thoughts
themselves exist is self-evident.

However that false thoughts are a fiction,
with no ties beyond a petty mind
full of doubt and delusion,
is not self-evident.

It becomes self-evident
when one's own awareness
expands and gradually consumes
the only thing we really ever know -
our false sense of self, our ego.

It is not that
I think therefore I am.
It is that when just I think,
therefore I am not -
and further that when
I am doing that just thinking,
I am actually not thinking
very well at all.

As I become more aware
of my false thoughts -
that create an ugly veil
over this beautiful world -
fade away.

In time a new clothe be thread,
a clothe woven to fit with reality.

However although the minds view
may now meet with reality,
it is indeed just that:
a map.

The challenge is
to create distance from the mind;
to be the mind yet not in the mind:
to be in the world yet not of it.

the only world we know
is of our little mind
projecting its delusion
on the whole unviverse -
billions of false realities.

Yet despite how vast and daunting
the statistics may seem,
it all amounts to ideas -
big ideas yes,
but nonetheless just thoughts.

And the universe is vast.


The Teacher

I can look at you
with pious delusion
and pronounce
that I am God:
or at the very least
we are on speaking terms.

And though this just be
a petty false thought,
you may well come to believe
in my myth.

I have projected my false thoughts
onto, and into, your mind.
Now these thoughts are no more petty.

The solitary can become
endemic and pandemic.
Just look at the worlds great wars.

Humans efforts to make the world
fit their deluded ideas of grandeur
illustrate the power of the mind.

Rather than projecting a false view
of the world on others,
the wise possess a mind
in tune with reality.

Hence a master does not falsely project.
Rather a master simply reflects truth -
so that others lost in themselves
may come to know that.

An d then the mind becomes
a creative dynamo
that cultivates flowers,
and shows that
this world is not only
consciousness and truth,
but also beauty and bliss.


Poetry

Poetry is not an imposition;
rather; it is an invitation.


Boredom

The world is not a boring place,
for truth be stranger than fiction.


On Beauty

Beauty that goes unsee
is beauty nonetheless,
and that includes the inner;
it also includes the outer.



On Solitude

Physical beuaty may be
in a never to be seen flower,
in the deepest of forests.

Yet like the glory of the oft hidden divine,
its splendour is not dimished.

The flower is no less fragrant, and
wilts not not sooner than in its own time,
just because its secrets are only shared
with the silence of nature untouched.

Indeed at times we may
feel deeply lonely.
However our fragrance and joy
lies patiently resting not far away.
Indeed it is sometimes difficult
to flower on a busy six-lane highway.

A Serious Laugh

Wisdom comes not from words.

Though I am an intellectual,
it does not mean I am not wise.

A collection of words
creates a leaning tower.

The wordless silence
yields the leaning tower fall.

Just because I am
paranoid doesn’t mean
they aren’t out to get me.

The fear is all in the mind,
yet mind attracts all fear.

Hiding not from oneself
the critics laugh
as the wise laugh
first at themselves
and then their critics.

In time the wise laughs
and the critics ponder bemused.

A twisted laugh,
a wordless spasm,
such yearnings for the futile,
the wise sit and do
Nothing.

Yet in all of eternity
no winds shall move
even a fine layer
from the mountain
that Is
a wise being.

Slip and Fall

Where lies the truth?
So many times it is asked,
yet we are with it all along.

This awareness that sees and feels,
this being present to whatever is happening,
seems as impotent as it is familiar.

What of God or Enlightenment
could be in being aware of
this act, this thought, or this feeling?

Yet if this awareness is intensified,
if the preoccupation with what we are aware of -
a beautiful person or a scrumptious sweet -
is redirected, a transformation begins.

What really is it in an outward
obsession that binds us to it?
What is in our body, mind, and heart,
when we focus on outer gain?

A gathering wave of awareness
penetrates and breaks down
the worlds apparent harshness.

Like rocks worn away
by the vast winds of nature,
our illusion of troubles
will reveal their secret lie.

The radiant light of awareness
sees the dissolution of our troubles,
our thoughts, feelings, body,
and even the subtle vibrations
that permeate our body.

When this happens that truth is revealed.
Consciousness has almost lost all objects.
Our ego the subject is threatened.

All of a sudden
awareness slips from the bind
of the world as we know it:
almost like being sucked
into the infinite vacuum
of a black hole.

Though the candle has blown out
an infinite presence is.

No thought, no feeling,
no body, no self is here.

Panic sets in and
the thread of the self
scrambles to pull itself
out of the abyss.

It is almost like the dew drop
that slips off the lotus leaf
is denied its full emersion
in the infinite oceanic diamond
by the vacuum of fear and ego.

This awareness that some proclaim
to be a manifestation of the physical,
is surely too ordinary to be what all we seek.
We no not that by standing in our own
seemingly insignificant awareness,
we stand next to God.

What else would be
the way to God the all-seeing,
than the outpouring of the seeing
that we possess.

In short we are scared of the divine;
scared because we as we no ourselves
do not exist.

It is alive,
it is infinite,
it is unmoving,
it is eternally now,
it is existence,
it is the ultimate
Truth.