Silence, my friend!
I feel you once again
Surrounding me and enveloping me
like a warm, protecting cloak.
Your radiance permeates my world.
With each breath you flow into me.
Every cell of my body opens to drink its fill of you.
My eyes feel you flowing out to every object
as you coat them like honey.
Every sound is you taking shape
in fine vibrations touching my ear.
I decipher each noise as your sweet voice
talking to my heart of your noiseless presence.
enough of the incessant movement, like a broken record
fragments whirling in the cosmic winds
be the center that is everywhere with no circumference
hold your ground as the innermost Innermost
like a fine thread of platinum
that is the vein of the invisible
recede to the center, simply turning your back
on the outward dynamic
turn around with your face against the flow that draws all
away from This
upon becoming invisible
the invisible shows Itself – only that
slakes my thirst.
i must drop all points of reference
all identity, all characteristics,
all carry-overs of ‘me’,
all that i want, i prefer, i am,
and yet be infinitely gentle
We live in a world of closeness.
it feels like me over here and
you over there
but it’s not – not really.
Don’t let yourself be fooled
by appearances –
they are the grand fraud
fraud? Such a strong word…
maybe better to say “illusion”, that sounds more
But it’s not – not reasonable.
A poem by anne norman
Original post: here
a solitary lightflute keeps vigil on the shore of consciousness
beaming unborn melodies across an ocean of incessant thought
beyond the liminal curve of the ear’s horizon
for Jarrah, who introduced me to the Point Lonsdale Lighthouse
unborn melodies, originally begun inside a lighthouse, during an attempt to catch fleeting melodies as they passed through my shakuhachi. I love reverberant spaces, they inspire me.
The poem has gone through a number of edits… as all poems do. This blog has become a staging post for poems and essays as they happen. Unlike a book, editing and fiddling is always possible. A dangerous, yet interesting form of “publishing.” (Orwell’s Ministry of Truth would have loved wordpress).
ORIGINAL POST here
Sometimes when I awaken in this wilderness of silence beneath the moon visions of the elegance of creation dance me into a heightened awareness of the phenomenal variation of life
Blessed to see and behold unending moments of wonder here on earth the blinding radiance of it all breaks free in the gaze of love
Suddenly am free falling into deep dimensions of timelessness a matrix of mystic seeds in a womb filled with silent music waiting to be born stirring with a longing desire to create a form
Playing with words letting them tumble into being sometimes claiming a place by finding a space on the pristine wilderness of a blank page an untouched field of light inviting love’s expression a composition that arranges itself in a flowing revelation of new life
Life is seeking union with love to reveal itself through the precious spirit hidden within us
We are designed to receive the Beloved who is forever forming us to become the light that reveals the glory and grace of love
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