There are many things
Category Archives: Spirituality
Maintain That Openness
Maintain that openness
which never closes;
an openness of mind,
not forever undecided,
but decidedly open;
open to possibility upon possibility upon possibility;
forever open;
wanting only to move into deeper and deeper regions
of possibility;
like the yogi on his mat,
holding a pose,
maintaining a stretch that strengthens;
maintain a pose of the heart,
and of the spirit and its energies;
a state of active passivity,
waiting for the Divine Hand
to weave its pattern
into the fabric of our Life.
Not concluding,
even while observing.
Not separating,
even while distinguishing.
Cultivate, and maintain,
that openness.
Infinite Now
Be Like Water
Be like water.
Open to cold,
it freezes.
Open to heat,
it boils.
Open to electricity,
it conducts.
Be like water.
The Unbearable Openness Of Being
Live wide open.
Allow all that happens to pass through you.
Cling to nothing.
Reject nothing.
Just let go.
Death
Death Is A Forest At Night
The Archer, Poised
I Never Held Anything
Underground Men
Two or Three
Two or three of something is healthy;
ten or twenty of something is not.
Two or three of something is exploration,
enjoyment,
balance;
ten or twenty of something is the ego
reaching for more,
trying to heal.
Clinging
I cling to the bar,
knuckles white,
shaking with exertion.
“Let go.”
I will not.
I squeeze tighter,
strength failing,
will giving way,
emptied of strength,
I let go.
I hit ground,
feet firmly planted,
shake tired arms,
blood rushes in.
“Get back up.”
I will not.
The ground gives way beneath my feet.
I scramble and run until at last
my legs fail.
I reach, grab the bar again,
legs, rest and refresh.
Until finally, I hear once again:
“Let go.”
The Invitation
Life
is the man waiting in a rocking chair,
in his living room by the fire,
looking out into the night;
he invites you to come inside,
warm yourself;
share a meal and drink wine together,
and tell stories;
to receive what every day
you beg for in the streets.
Morning Evening
His Direction
Fear Is The Only Sin
Fear is the only sin.
Fear closes.
Shuts down.
It hinders our capacities to create and to express;
our ability to know and to understand;
to love and to be.
Fear cuts us off from our source of life.
Fear is the only sin.
Dreamers
Perhaps mind begets mind.
Perhaps I am not a dream of god
but the dream of one of god’s dreamers.
Then what of my dreams?
Where will they end?
What dreamers will I dream?
Weightlessness
I stop.
Long enough to feel
the weightlessness
beneath all this.
It terrifies and saddens me.
I sigh,
and in that sigh,
exhale the void.
I breathe in,
and in that breath,
the world is re-born.
The Word `God`
God is not the word God.
The word is not the thing.
But a sign pointing to the thing.
God is the silence before that word.
The stillness that surrounds it.
Never understood.
Never named.
Underneath
How Do You Manage That Pain?
I Am A Net
Hurried
Open or Closed
There are two ways to live life:
open or closed.
Open is:
to let be and let go
to release and relax
to take in and give out
to give and to receive
to reveal and be revealed
to hide nothing and fear nothing
Closed is:
to fight and shut out
to cut off and not allow
to close and contain
to force out and hold back from
to be unreceiving and inhospitable
to conceal and hide
The Clarity Of Death
I scream across the abyss of time,
trying to tell you;
trying to show you what I see now,
what I feel now.
Death is near.
The illusions have shed
like accumulated fat.
All the walls and masks and safety nets
abandon me in a moment.
I am alone.
I finally see everything so clearly.
Hear me.
Hear yourself.
Shed your layers.
This Transitory Wind
I Am Not
Invincible Spirit
A Crossroad
A crossroad: two diverging paths.
One sign, old and worn.
I went right.
There was black.
Cold, flame.
Grunting, toiling.
Hunger. Sweat.
I saw Prometheus.
I backtracked,
went left this time.
There was white.
Soft. Abundance.
I saw Judas.
Confused, I returned,
stood before the signs.
A hooded man approached,
I asked why Judas
was in paradise.
“All wander where they like,” said he,
“Judas indulges all day;
never finds peace,
the leech, unable to stop sucking.”
He continued:
“And there, Prometheus, the noble soul,
each day tortured for his sacrifice of love.”
“So which is heaven,
and which is hell?” asked I.
“Neither,” said he,
“or, both, if you like,
for the souls that dwell there
make either so.”
Fire
Like feathers on the arrow
you quiver,
driven, upwards by a wind.
Reds, oranges
yellows, and blacks:
beautiful and severe.
Your blue is not the blue of peace
but of war.
Hell-fire. Purifying.
Fire:
you burn so near to my heart.