Saturday, June 6, 2015


Wu Hsin - The I am




The sum of a past is I was.
The sum of a future is
I will be.
The continuous crossing back and forth
Between the two
Obscures the present moment,
The I am, Being Itself.

The preoccupation with
The foreground, the sights,
The smells,
The sounds,
Takes the attention away from
The background.
Yet, it is in this very background that
The Mystery resides.
~ Wu Hsin
Lost Writings of Wu Hsin 


Mystic Meandering - The secret of “The Mystery”




I bow to “The Mystery” of the Pure Being that resides within;
that which all seekers seek, called by different names…

I rest in the Heart of Its Pure Existence,
enfolded by Primordial Love;
Heart within Heart -
The secret of “The Mystery.”

The Embrace of Pure Being
opens my Heart to Its Infinite Love;
the secret of Its Mystery

I only need rest
in this Heart of Pure Love,
the True Guru of the Heart;
and let Love *live* me…

My Heart laughs and cries
at the clarity of revelation -
that there is only Love;
the Ancient Elixir of LIFE…


The secret of “The Mystery” ~

Love…

The secret of Life ~

Love…

~*~

Bowing inwardly
to “The Mystery”

I give my Heart to Love





Mystic Meandering
May 29, 2015
 
 
 
 
 
 

Friday, June 5, 2015

Rumi - The Freshness





When it’s cold and raining,
you are more beautiful.

And the snow brings me
even closer to your lips.

The inner secret, that which was never born,
you are that freshness, and I am with you now.

I can’t explain the goings,
or the comings. You enter suddenly,

and I am nowhere again.
Inside the majesty.

— Rumi, “The Freshness,” The Essential Rumi, New Expanded Edition. 
HarperOne, 2004



Rumi - O Drop



Listen, O’ drop, give yourself up without regret,
and in exchange gain the Ocean.
Listen, O’ drop, bestow upon yourself this honor,
and in the arms of the Sea be secure.
Who indeed should be so fortunate?
An Ocean wooing a drop!
In God’s name, in God’s name, sell and buy at once!
Give a drop, and take this Sea full of pearls.




Czeslaw Milosz - A Poem For The End Of The Century

art H.J.Ford


When everything was fine
And the notion of sin had vanished
And the earth was ready
In universal peace
To consume and rejoice
Without creeds and utopias,

I, for unknown reasons,
Surrounded by the books
Of prophets and theologians,
Of philosophers, poets,
Searched for an answer,
Scowling, grimacing,
Waking up at night, muttering at dawn.

What oppressed me so much
Was a bit shameful.
Talking of it aloud
Would show neither tact nor prudence.
It might even seem an outrage
Against the health of mankind.

Alas, my memory
Does not want to leave me
And in it, live beings
Each with its own pain,
Each with its own dying,
Its own trepidation.

Why then innocence
On paradisal beaches,
An impeccable sky
Over the church of hygiene?
Is it because that
Was long ago?

To a saintly man
--So goes an Arab tale--
God said somewhat maliciously:
"Had I revealed to people
How great a sinner you are,
They could not praise you."

"And I," answered the pious one,
"Had I unveiled to them
How merciful you are,
They would not care for you."

To whom should I turn
With that affair so dark
Of pain and also guilt
In the structure of the world,
If either here below
Or over there on high
No power can abolish
The cause and the effect?

Don't think, don't remember
The death on the cross,
Though everyday He dies,
The only one, all-loving,
Who without any need
Consented and allowed
To exist all that is,
Including nails of torture.

Totally enigmatic.
Impossibly intricate.
Better to stop speech here.
This language is not for people.
Blessed be jubilation.
Vintages and harvests.
Even if not everyone
Is granted serenity. 





Thursday, June 4, 2015

Wu Hsin - Personal self




The rabbit runs away from
The wolf that is on the hunt.
It is only a body that runs, there is no one who ran.
All notions of a personal self are false.
An action occurred;
At that moment there is only acting, but no actor.
It then follows that any
Life of a personal self is likewise false.
The flower turning to the sun is in
The essential nature of the plant.
The mode of any action of any form,
Its behavior, is inherent in its nature.
There is no entity doing anything; the organism reacts.
Thoughts appear as a necessary function in humans.
The organism does not decide to
Create them any more than it decides to breathe.
They are sourced from
That which sustains and supports the organism.
To believe that you can stop your thoughts,
Presupposes that one initiates them.
This self-deception, this I-am-this-body idea, can die
While the body continues to live.
But there cannot be anyone to bring it about.




Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Alan Watts - Death




“Nothing is more creative than death, since it is the whole secret of life.
It means that the past must be abandoned, that the unknown cannot be avoided, 
that ‘I’ cannot continue, and that nothing can be ultimately fixed. 
When a man knows this; he lives for the first time in his life. 
By holding his breath, he loses it. 
By letting it go he finds it.”





Ahmad Jami - Your Beauty



Each who has seen Your beauty fine
Utters honestly, 'I have seen the Divine.'

Everywhere Your lovers wait for grace,
Remove Your veil, reveal Your face!

I am in the ocean and an ocean is in me;
This is the experience of one who can see.

He that leaps into the river of Unity,
He speaks of union with his Beloved's beauty.




Seyh Ibrahim Efendi - The Sufi Way



They say the Sufi way
     is to give one's life away.

The Sufi way is to become a sultan
     on the throne of the soul.

In the station of the Path,
     it is to destroy appearances.
In the station of Reality,
     it is to become a guest
in the innermost palace of the heart.

They say it is to be pure of body,
     the light of the Beloved.
The Sufi way is to gradually take off
     the dress of earth and water.




They say it is to burn up in Love's fire --
The Sufi way is to be utterly inflamed
     with the light of the Beloved.

They say it is to believe and follow the rules --
The Sufi way is to discover the rules
     of the multitude of heavens.

They say it is to become a medicine for every ailment --
The Sufi way is to know and become all the secrets
     of creation.

They say it is to destroy the illusion of bodies --
The Sufi way is to open the secrets of the body
     with the key of the Divine Names.




O Sufi, to comprehend it, one must be it.
The one who gets lost in words
     will never be their meaning.

They say it is to become the secret of God
     within one's innermost heart --
The Sufi way is to read the outer signs
     and know the inner meanings.

They say it is to be in wonder
     at the greatness of creation --
The Sufi way is to be constantly amazed
     by the nature of Reality.

They say it is to make each heart
     the throne of God --
The Sufi way is to remove all else but God
     from the heart's dwelling.




They say it is to watch over all humanity --
The Sufi way is to cover East and West
     with every breath.

They say it is to shine as brightly as the sun --
The Sufi way is to perceive God
     in every minute thing.

They say it is to be in harmony
     with every kind of person --
The Sufi way is to appear
in a hundred thousand forms daily.

They say it is to be like Solomon
     to the whole universe;
The Sufi way is to understand
     and speak in every language.




They say it is to become an ocean
     from a single drop --
The Sufi way is to make your heart a cellar
     to hold the wine of the Truth.

They say it is to become a human being
     illuminated with the light of Being --
The Sufi way is to destroy Being utterly
     in the light of Non-Being.

They say it is to become a life
     for each particle of life --
The Sufi way is to die a thousand times
     and return to life each moment.





They say it is to become a master
     of wisdom and eternal justice --
The Sufi way is to become an eye
     looking out from every hair.

They say it is to surrender
     your soul to the Beloved --
The Sufi way is to become
     the soul of the Beloved.

They say it is the proof
     of Muhammad's message --
The Sufi way, O Ibrahim,
     is to embody God
          as one's own self.





Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Eja - Golden Ash Illumination




I awoke at dawn
And looked into the empty mirror
I saw a pair of empty eyes staring back at me
And I realized it’s all an empty dream

Awake, dreamer, awake
Awake from the nightmare of reason
Awake from the sleep of treason
Awake to your birth in the eternal now
Your karmic debt has been paid
The meat grind wheel of birth and death has stopped spinning
Arise from this cemetery of lies

You are the Buddha in the empty mirror
You are a dream already a long time ended
You are a teardrop in the great ocean of being

Place the lamb of your suffering
At the altar of the golden ash illumination

Repose beyond fate
All is bliss
You have been assigned to wake up

I burn all my poetic ambitions
At the altar of the golden ash illumination


Eamon Zicker

Bulleh Shah - Love Springs Eternal




Love springs eternal!
When I learnt the lesson of Love
I dreaded going to the mosque.
Hesitantly, I found a temple
Where they beat a thousand drums.
Love springs eternal! Come!

I am tired of reading holy books,
Fed up with prostrations good.
God is not in Mathura or Mecca.
He who finds Him is enlightened!
Love springs eternal! Come!

Burn the prayer mat, break the beaker!
Quit the rosary, chuck the staff!
Lovers shout at the top of their voices:
Break all rules that tie you down!
Love springs eternal! Come!

Heer and Ranjha are united:
While she searches for him in orchards,
He is in her warm embrace!
She has her love, she is fulfilled!
Love springs eternal! Come!




Kabir - Tale of love, untellable



Love's not grown in gardens;
Love's not sold at market.
He who wants it, king or commoner,
gives his head and takes it.

Studying great books many have died
none ever becomes learned.
Two letters and a half in love,
who studies them is learning.
Narrow is the lane of love.
Two will never fit.
When I was, the Lord was not.
Now He is; I am not.
Kabir says: clouds of love
came on me showering;
Soaked the heart
greening the inner jungle.
A heart dry of love;
God again untasted.
This is man in this world;
His arising wasted.
Roused, ecstatic with His name,
love-drunk, overflowing,
reveling in His vision
Why bother with liberation?
Tale of love, untellable.
Not a bit is ever told.
The sweets of a dumb one -
he enjoys and smiles. 




St. Simeon the New Theologian -




I know that the Immovable comes down;
I know that the Invisible appears to me;
I know that He who is outside the whole creation
Takes me within Himself and hides me in His arms,
and then I find myself outside the whole world.
I, a frail, small mortal in the world,
behold the Creator of the world, all of Him, within myself;
and I know that I shall not die, for I am within the Life,
I have the whole of Life springing up as a fountain within me.
He is in my heart, He is in heaven:
both there and here He shows himself to me with equal glory.




Monday, June 1, 2015

Mahmud Shabistari - Back in the Rose Garden



Intoxicated from the pure draft
which I had drained to the dregs,
in the bare dust I fell.
Since then I don't know if I exist or not;
but I am not sober, nor am I ill or drunken.
Sometimes, like His eye, I am full of joy,
or, like His curl, I am waving;
Sometimes -- alas! -- from habit or nature,
I am lying on a dust heap.
Sometimes, at a glance from Him,
I am back in the Rose Garden.


 (from The Secret Rose Garden)
PDF HERE





Rabia - Eternal Beauty!


O Allah! If I worship You 
for fear of Hell, then may I burn there!
If I worship You in hope of Paradise, 
may I never find it!
But if I worship You 
for Your Own sake,
let me be filled
with your eternal 
Beauty!
 
 
 

Fred LaMotte - Confession




I have a confession to make.
I am always drunk.

Especially when I have just consumed
a nightfull of waking stillness.

The milky way makes me drunk,
lightning bugs make me drunk

and at dawn, telltale honeysuckle
at the ragged edges of my meadow.

Tears make me drunk.

Even a sip of your face, the gentlest
kiss of it, and I can't remember
my name.

I go reeling down the street,
begging.

Nuns and social workers try
to help me back to normal.

They discover me gazing into my heart
and slapping my own cheeks.

They explain to passers-by,
'He is not himself today."

But that's just the problem: I Am.

The sun and moon have given me up
for adoption.

Their gravity cannot contain me.
Is it my fault I was born

with a fathomless cup
at the center of my chest

where You won't stop pouring into Me
with every breath?
 
 
 
 
 

Jiddu Krishnamurti - The book of life