Friday, August 28, 2020

Ginny Lonsdale - Mystical revelations


This is what I am here for ...
to observe
wordlessly wondering
at the movement, the colour, the shapes
into the textures and shadows
feeling with the eyes, ears, skin, nose, hair
feeling with the awareness that joins inside and out

This is what I am here for ...
to notice
the wind through the trees
the bark on the ground
the leaves falling
the sun on the stone
the flower open
the wet soil
the skin of a dead toad

silently broadcasting their truth ...

wild abandon
endless transformation
overwhelming momentum
traceless belonging

belonging to all that came before
there is no other way
this becoming on and on ...

In the unceasing teachings
everything has its own integrity
and sovereignty
none stands above another
each living gifted life
whole just as it is
under no dominion

Life is here, HERE for its own joy
- that tree, those ants, that possum, those sheep
oh! you and me
All given the right of belonging here. To just live.
That we are here, anything is here
is no mistake.

There is no secret, though it may appear that way.
The birther of us all, of everything
is 'hidden nearby',
though in FELT sight.
We use our inheritance, our natural belonging
to feel the tender, joyful, sacred living breath
in all things.
All of creation made through and through
from goodness - whole and complete.
Perfect just as it is.

This is what I am here for ...
to stand in the teachings of this ...
given over, emptied by awe
filled with gratitude
to say a thousand thank yous
with my whole being
arms open with joy
and know that I am heard.

That's what I am here for ...

Breathed into Being by LOVE. 

Please follow link to Part 2

 Please click this link to Part 3


footnote from a moment

 Thank you Christine

RUMI ♡ One lasting truth /O Beloved! (narrated)


O n e L a s t i n g T r u t h

That awesome Beauty gives us everything.
Whose fault is it
if we go away empty-handed?
Don’t be disheartened
if that Charmer is ruthless—
Who ever saw Him acting otherwise?
His love is sugar enough
even when it gives no sugar.
His beauty is promise enough
even when it causes you
to break your promise.
Show me a house where His light
does not shine.
Show me a garden where His grace
does not bloom.
God was jealous of His own Face
and so He created the splendor of morning.
When the spirit awoke in that light, it said,
To grasp God’s beauty, you must become God.
The eye and the lamp are different lights
but when they come together
no one can tell them apart.
What is true?
What is false?
The only truth I know in this world
is my master, Shams-e Tabriz:
The light of his Sun
has never shone upon anything passing
without making it eternal.


When All You Had
Was Him

O my Beloved,
I searched both worlds
but never found joy without you.
I have seen many wonders
but never a wonder like you.
I pressed my soul’s ear
against countless doors
But never heard words as sweet as yours.
O what grace you pour upon your servants!
From our view the ocean looks so small!
O Saaqi, sweet sight of my eyes,
I’ve never seen one like you
in all of Persia or Arabia.
Pour the wine that takes me beyond myself,
for this petty existence
brings nothing but fatigue.
You are the endless Love,
You are the heavenly song,
You are the mother and father,
You are the one I will always know.
We are scraps of iron.
Your love is the magnet that draws us near.
Why should I seek?—
All I need do is love. ...
Rest now my soul,
Leave behind your religion
and your empty show of faith.
Remember when you had no religion?
Remember when all you had was Him?



Wednesday, August 26, 2020

Meister Eckhart - and IF …



Everything hangs on the little word
here and its sibling now,

but I often forget this,
keeping busy with my plans,
building for a future

I cannot know and
against worries I cannot
finally tame,

and yet You wait for me to
come home to Your now

which is beyond past and future,
and return to Your here

which is present before beginning
and beyond every ending.

and IF …

If I could love as God loves

I would not fear the judgment of others
or the loss of my very self and

would know that God is the one
who knows and loves and desires
himself and all things

and loves me most when
I finally let go of trying and
simply let myself live love.

Ours is not the work of
seeking You here or there
where we think You might be,

but of opening the heart’s door,
and when we do this
You cannot resist coming in,

since our opening and Your
entering are one: You
knock and wait, and
when we open we
find that

You were there all along
and will not leave us.



via stillness speaks



Tuesday, August 25, 2020

Ghazal 22 from the Diwan of Hafiz ♡ (narrated)


Remember the day of union with the friends.
Remember those times, remember.

From bitter sorrow my mouth became like poison.
Remember the revelers’ cry of “Drink!”

The friends are free of the memory of me
although I remember them a thousand times.

I was overtaken in these bonds of calamity.
Remember the efforts of those who serve the truth.

Although there are always a hundred rivers in my eye
remember the Zindehrud, and those who plant gardens.

After this Hafiz’s secret will remain unspoken.
Alas, remember those who keep the secrets.

Monday, August 24, 2020


Nietzsche - To Hafiz: Questions of a Water Drinker


 The tavern you have built with your hand
is far greater than any house
the wine you have made therein
all the world fails to imbibe
the bird which was once called the phoenix
is now dwelling in your house
the mouse which gave birth to a mountain
is yourself
you are everyone and no one, you are the tavern and the wine
you are the phoenix, the mountain and the mouse
you keep pouring in yourself
and you keep filling with yourself
the deepest valley you are
the brightest light you are
the intoxication of all intoxication you are
what need do you have to ask for wine? 

Ghazal 31 from the Diwan of Hafiz



 Preachers who display their piety in prayer and pulpit
behave differently when they’re alone.

It puzzles me. Ask the learned ones of the assembly:
“Who do those who demand repentance do so little of it?”

It’s as if they don’t believe in the Day of Judgment
with all this fraud and counterfeit they do in His name.

I am the slave of the tavern-master, whose dervishes,
in needing nothing, make treasure seem like dust.

O lord, put these nouveaux-riches back on their asses
because they flaunt their mules and Turkish slaves.

O angel, say praises at the door of love’s tavern,
for inside they ferment the essence of Adam.

Whenever his limitless beauty kills a lover
others spring up, with love, from the invisible world.

O beggar at the cloister door, come to the monastery of the Magi,
for the water they give makes hearts rich.

Empty your house, O heart, so that it may become home to the beloved,
for the heart of the shallow ones is an army camp.

At dawn a clamor came from the throne of heaven. Reason said:
“It seems the angels are memorizing Hafiz’s verse.”



Elizabeth T. Gray