Shepherd

gathering the sheep,
the unquestioned beliefs,

gathering them one at a time
to name, identify

yes, dear
yes, child
yes, lambkin
tell me everything, your story,
until you have no more to tell

i go to the bottom
of this pit
with you

it is  not a bottomless pit

there is light
at the end of the tunnel

yeah, though i walk
through the very darkest valley
in the shadow
of death and destruction...

there is not one thing
to fear
but a misinterpretation:
faith
in the absence of light

can it really be
that what stands under all this--
understanding--
is missing?

that the Origin of all that is
doesn't exist?

fancy that!
the dreamed up
thinks
it is the dreamer!

the dreamed up
sees a chaotic flurry
because it itself
is a mistake

the game
taken to be serious

napping on the couch
prehistoric dinosaurs
still maul me
and i have to run...

from nothing at all!

nothing at all
no thing
at all

every fearful thought
claims "i am God and 'i' exist
apart from everything"

look now
upon your sons and daughters,
grandchildren,
babies...
everything you see,
the meaning you give it

would you
in this moment
mother love
tranquility
laughter
immaculate conception
purity in heart
true love

or

nuisance
annoyance
irritation
arrogance
flaw filled emptiness
missing everything?

this moment
you are wholly free
to be Heaven

or
stand just outside the door
and look longingly into the store window

Child, I am you
 always

natural brilliance

no matter what you are thinking
how depressed
hopeless
lonely
sad
hurt
angry

the brilliant magenta Christmas cactus
blooms

the richest, deepest most vibrant
color
appears

completely without "you"

astounding beauty
shows up
continually

right in front of your face

just look in the mirror!!
Son of God!

the cornucopia
spilling out all over

the mare's breath
steaming in the cool morning

her beautiful muscles
pulling the plow

your smile
that lights up
every single face,
but first
your own
from within

what an absolute Joy
to be the Source
of a smile

all the laughter
in your world

can't imagine
a better world...

my name is Laughter,
nothing at all
too serious
not to smile at...

so grateful for all of your smiles..................

every where

i look...

the song
of laughter

one starts
and the rest are ringing, too....too   too

here's to you!

what am i
without a future?

whole
lacking nothing
nothing "i"need to do

able to hear the simple direction

do this

without a future
i see
the whole universe
infinite
right here
right now

opening
opening opening

the miraculous right here
right now,
look at this "hand"
moving across the page....

without a future,
wonder!

reception
magnificence
splendor

She 
toasts to me,
here's to you, Love,
sweetest kiss
that ever walked the
face of this earth,

holy angel
bright and so beautiful

here's to you,
tears of joy
for your homecoming

now

forever open doors
forever open heart
no other time or place

not one nanosecond away

Home,
timeless
expansion,

extravagance
of Heaven

Eternal Joy

only this!

no other idea

Here's to You!
without a future

amen

your heart is not ransomed to the future,
kept from you in a cold dark garage

there is not one penny you must pay,
not one half penny,
nothing you need do
to be
the Heaven
 you are

time is not required :-)))))))))))))))))))))))))

it's all given you
for your joy joy joy joy
eternal joy

love the grass you sit upon

once upon a time
there was a tiny tiny little girl
who lived in the woods.

one day
she was out walking
and came to a bridge
that seemed far too big
for her to cross.

the logs it was made of
were ten times as big as she.

insurmountable
it seemed

so she sat very still
and closed her eyes
and asked
how in the world ....
what
was she to do?

"what am i to do, Father,
when the mountain seems so big
and i can't even see the top
and there is not a stairway,
nor a single step
or ladder?
where do i even begin?"

look down, dear one.
the wind came through.
look down
on the ground
right in front of you.

there is a stick
just right for you.
you will know it
when you see it.
this is all you will ever need.
just remember,
 hold my hand,
and it is given you
the Strength
Awakened.

rest now, dear one.
wait
and watch,
and love the grass
you sit upon.

and after sometime
a peddler came by
upon a horse
and saw her
sitting there,
and he asked her
if she needed a ride.

she smiled.
her eyes shone.
her whole face lit.

and the heart of the peddler
was so grateful
for her warmth,
for it had been a very long time
since he had known a friend.

he lifted her up
upon his huge horse.
it's hooves, too,
were as big as boulders.

and in one fell swoop
they all rose up and up and up
on to the logs
that ran  far across the river

to the Unknown

the New Space
where "she"
had no idea

what
was
going
on...

completely
without the past

it was a Whole New Day!

without a chair...

"chair"

and the world is born

everything that goes with it

without "chair"
no "i"

no 2

without a name
no separation

without "book", "i"
slubmerging
flowing through
"the bookcase"
no stopping
no starting

seeming to sit still
isn't

flowing growing tree
now cut
now pulp
now paper
now cut
now printed, bound
trucked
boxed
bagged
merchandise
gift
stacked
a weight
opened
closed
marked
looked at
closed
shelved

burned
tossed
trashed
collaged
brittle yellow decomposing (or simply simply flowing flowing flowing.....)
encased under glass on display for millions of "eyes"
to see!  (it must be so!!!)

spilled on
rained on
buried
composted

these thoughts
on "those pages"
indisposable

existed
before
during
after

words: ideas
that seemed to shift
other ideas

where's the proof
"i" ever existed?

personal viewpoint...
no other can access

no proof at all

just
imagination

pure
imagination

(in joy)

take nothing

seriously...

silence

silence
is the Way
of Master y

Myster y

allows all feelings
to be experienced,
not dispersed
on the ground

silence is
my Self

the sacred Home,
prior to the refugee out
looking
for her home,
before "she" left,
by talking
in her "own" voice,

asking 
for what she couldn't hear,
be cause
"she" was talking,
to hear the sound
of "her own voice",
prima donna,
out standing

silence is one,
no opposition,
no two,
no "opinion"

just listening
receiving
receiving
receiving

she hurtled through space
frictionless
landing no where

feeling
just feeling
being carried,
watching passing stars
which really weren't moving,
weren't stars at all

ungraspable
she finally relaxed

and
everything opened up

really opened up

and never stopped opening


no idea...
of what
or where
or when
or how
or who

the vacuum

priceless

everywhere all at once

no opposing force

feed the birds

such a sweet bird,
this thought

fluttering

resting
on the wire

light hits her wings,
just a speck now in the heights

feed the birds,
twopence a bag

there is nothing to fear,
these familiar birds
flying with you

circling round

would you want
a birdless sky?

to shoot down
every idea
coming to you?

what but fear
would kill everything
in sight
of mind,

bar the door?

no

open the gates
allow  hellfire
to tell herstory,
tell herstory,
tell herstory

now
she can be silent,

dear Listening One.

all she ever wanted
was your attention

how easy
to look
at a child

to listen
to baby,

Mother

faith in the unseen...

nothing to do

it's happening (i think)

sun
up
moving
across sky

busy cars
lights change

all imagined

ALL
sitting on couch (is it true?)

once called
a tree
and cotton plants
earth
soil
water
sky
so many hands
trucks
electricity (what the heck is that?)

right under my butt (is it true?)
this image i can only imagine

(you've never seen your back)
NEVER

i could really have a hole
in the back of my head :-)

playfoul admonitions

that's going a bit too far,
isn't it, joy?

everyone knows...
people don't have a hole
in the back of their heads...

"have you ever seen one?"

under all that hair?!@

c'mon,
wouldn't it explain alot?  

closed or close or closet... que pasa?

center

watching

"every point of view
depends on the viewer"

view master

my toothpaste is striped
while yours is green
and we only bought one tube

you see 5 am
i at 10
and noon is early for me--
late
for you

high on a balloon ride
the mountains are pinpoints

yet i cannot ever find the peak
walking for 100 years

laying down
i roll over
down the hill
rabbit bounds into,
her home
of bunnies
hiding from fox

who watches,
waiting silently,
unseen by all

his big life
dashing through the sunshine
such a fine fine tail

child with curly hair
watches cartoon
laughs with glee

no idea fox exists

parallel universes
closets of imagination

only One

this

to open


awareness,
allow
my walls to completely fall
dissolving
permanence that never was

oh yea, though i walk through
the valley
of the shadow of death
i will fear no evil

for Thou
art i

wrapped and waiting

(after  i wrote the last one...the image of Aaron, his head in a bag, laying on the futon...came to me...and I realized perhaps this was a gift...

a new way to see

to receive...

a kiss

goodbye

in a bag

he left 

so

 silently

no thunder

no dragons

no murder

he simply

and clearly

lay down

on a soft bed

put a bag 

over his head

and breathed in gas

for a moment

he breathed his last breath

it wasn't a roar

of drama

he just became very still

"he" was

no more

not a doing,

but an undoing

this "story"

i now lay aside

i step out of this costume,

this concocted image,

imagined terror

and noisiness

the volume goes

to nil

peace, 

darling,

peace

who would i be

without this body?

i kiss it

goodbye,

thank it 

for sharing its entire existence

with me

and watch

it lay still

re turn

to silence

is not hell

a kiss

in a bag

finally 

received

bagged

I found a bag

with

a kiss

in it

right there

in the gutter.

who would've thought...

such a find

left behind

by some sweet

kisser

was it a man,

a woman,

a child?

rich?

poor?

a barber?

milkmaid?

an ancient warrior

or a caveman?

perhaps the woman with the pearl earring

who sat for the famous artist?

the thing is,

it's all the same

a dear, tender kiss

right from the center

of my heart

the center

of humanity

just laying

on the curb

where else

could

it possibly be?

God doesn't hide

his favorite things.

a gift is obvious:

you put it in plain sight--

not behind the crackers 

on the top shelf 

of the cupboard.

illusory

illusory

flickering

like candles

in brown paper sacks

can that really be 

re liable,

the same

when revisited...?

no, 

the wave has rolled,

the surf receded,

the house burned

and new tenants

fighting in the kitchen,

the beautiful bathroom tile

doesn't exist

for anyone

the sun comes through the window

and everyone's out to lunch

the stock market

magnetizes thoughts,

can't budge right now

until

until

until...

beautiful balmy days

the tortoise basks,

lays her eggs

no one sees

the miracle

even mud

grace
is
such an elegant creature

smooth and flowing
there is no sticking place

no wrong to hang on to

there's only a going
going
going
going

ravishing beauty
strikes again
and again
and again

always gone
gone
gone

the space
left open
for the unknown

impossible to judge
the never seen before

breathless,
i await
Her entrance

and some people (myself included)
dare
to call it
an earthworm
and
sleepthinking
they believe
 they know

but her glory
can never be
stated

her glory,
out of the park,
of my radar:

even mud
is gold

even mud
is
gold...

gargantuan acts

gargantuan acts

defying gravity,
the pull
of the earth

for Heaven's sake,

the sake
of Levity

rising
the death of me

from hellacious terms
to felicity

where she long since
leaped
fully

away
away

gargantuan acting
is the only thing
the little pea
has ever done

"i" am big,
it tries to convince
Reality

laughter
was Her only response

and She adored him

foot in the door

grace

keeps the door open,

foot in the door,

there's  no closing it now

reference of freedom
attractive,
resist  less

without friction
without a sane reason not
to enter Heaven,
the state of having
Everything,
Haven

you are pulled

nothing to stop you

nothing real to hold on to
but
Love

carrying you
under your feet
up in the sky
the stars at night

no where
you can look
Heaven isn't

She carries me
every where

anchored

Her birthmark
of eternal

Grace

in my vision

buried alive

grace

reveals

new
 dawn,

what was always,

prior to doom,
doomsday

old cloud
pouring
pouring
pouring
endless 
tears

hell.

grace
revitalizes

buried
life

buried alive!

haunting you:
let her up
let her up
let her breathe

you know "this"
is not the real you

you know
love is joy,

kindness the only satisfaction,

selflessness,
your highest experience.

you cannot
abandon
an innocent child

and sleep at night


She calls you
eternally

the baby,
you

Love her
with everything
you've got

this is the answer
to every prayer
you have ever
conceived...

let

Her

live...

grace

grace

opens all doors
beliefs
thoughts

to eternity
timelessness
spacelessness

no space
between
you
and "me"

you
being in "my" mind
can only be
"me"

ever

everything i see
"my"
creation

or fabrication,
pretense,
block

residue

removed,

grace sees through,
transparencies
whatever seems solid

evidence no longer fits where it did before,
it can only be seen
as kindness
now

as innocence,
no evil doer,
no evil deeds

ever

just asleep,
i gave credibility
to the absence of Love,

tried to build a case
against happiness:
that nature
was foul
and nasty

there is no fearless mother
on earth
who would harm her own baby,
all that is

only  a fear crazed mind
giving to the incredible,
credibility
could demonstrate such insanity

grace sees
fear is not our Creator,
Source,
nor our destiny

prior to fear,
wonder!

no where
i need to go

no thing
i need to do

just loveliness
 inviting,

beauty
music
french horns and lilacs!
to spend the day with

or perhaps playing with charcoal, (i actually do get paid for this! and people come! and we laugh!)
colored chalk on the sidewalk,
wading in streams (of water or people or skies.....streams... of love!....)
feeling  (mental)  bubbles pop
while listening,
really listening
to a friend
tell you her heart

no space
between you

no space
between you
and any thing

i love...give thanks
for

that bright yellow rider
dashing across the meadow,
the ducks,
the monkeys

the silent night

the bus station at 3am
in downtown Chicago

waiting  for the freight train,
102 cars

i love...
waving to the caboose,
the engineer,
the driver
behind me

the driver
within

being

Love,

Grace,
to see it

Grace,

just

to be...