The mountain is a mountain is not a mountain is a mountain, winking in and out of existence, moment to moment in endless beginnings.
Yes, yes, I get it. I loose it. I get. I get that there is nothing to get. It just is. And I still loose it. Because there is still “I” and there’s “it”.
It is what is, what it is, is what we make out of it. Ups can be downs, bad can be good. Winking, winking, winking.
Flailing in the midst of tempest debris everywhere promises retracted recoiled when angels feared to tread the rock that forms when hurts congeal unyielding I who should have known better am the bitter fool instead
Tempest in the primordial mind debris everywhere chaos in the moment of destruction mind spits castles into the air structures fractured shelters collapse no refuge anywhere the “I” breaks down yields to calm mind becomes aware
Still in an espresso cup tempest swirling still steaming alchemy still waiting to yield the rich bitter deepness where are you now sweet angel in retreat outside where sweetness reside
I see you my dear, in your designer shoes, your MBA hung around your neck, like an anchor to the status quo. Drug induced sleep is still sleep. Normal people have normal anxiety, normal unhappiness, normal quiet desperation, don’t they?
I see you weary prince, wearing your hurt like a mantle within your castle walls you pace, misery magnified in each lonely echo, drowning soft laughter floating in through windows too high to see.
I see you anemone crab, beautifully armed with the toxins of another, trapped within your soft shell, helplessly scavenging the debris for morsels decaying and dead. Eyes looking up at the endless blue wondering what floats above the waves.
No, it’s not fatal.
But.
That which is awareness is greater than consciousness
That which is conscious is greater than mind
That which is mind is greater than mental formations
That which is mental formation is based on reaction
That which is reaction is based on perception
That which is perception is based on perspective
That which is perspective is limited
That which is limited is illusion
That which is Illusion is transformed by wisdom
That which is wisdom arises from awareness
Beloved why do you weep
I’ve found that which we seek
New worlds new sights and indeed
Boundless love wrapped with endless peace
Free the sorrow from your heart
Then you’ll see that we’re not apart
On peaceful nights in silence deep
Into your dreams I often creep
Heal your heart with love sublime
Dry your tears let the knot unwind
In every breath you’ll see the sign
We are made of spirit divine
When I crashed my bike that day
My body broke but I am not dead
Consciousness does not dissipate
My light and my love perpetuate
100 days in the light today
Some day you too will come this way
I pray you trust me when I say
Death does nothing to the soul
Hold that space with love for me
A look, a whisper, a kiss
A breath, a day, a thousand lifetimes.
Love is.
1 January 2012