the end of time

you have to tend the fire, honey,
if you want the girl to stay warm

she likes a little nudging
and a hospitable hello
with a wink (very important)
and a joke is good, too

if you leave the hearth untended...

she certainly won't go out
being the blaze of glory
that she is,
the stardust Herself
can actually melt the rock,
the ice
the tentacles of fear

oh she can light up the darkest corners
of the forest
where the little "varmints"
are
simply eating supper,
like any other self loving family,
mama feeding her babies,
 daddy digging out the cave

isn't it glorious the stars need no help
to burn so brightly?
no sacrifice
no daily ladder climbing to wash and persuade
and thank and encourage

just
the sparkling
blazing
untended
nature
of
God

She is the light

what a really silly, absurd, (denigrating even)
thought,
to believe
she needs a "man"
to tend her fire

who needs
a future
when you are in love
with yourself right now?

once upon a time...

what is it that craves "excitement"?

that says, "This" is not enough,

what is it that says "This" is boring,
though yesterday
it wasn't

it cannot be
the "external", is there such a thing?

what is it that says this sensation
needs to stop?

what is it
that argues so?

this commentator
knower
authority
author of a story that isn't happening

is it a "ghost"?
that pretends to exist,
pretends to be right,
but isn't

should we give her a name?
this "princess"
that professes to have the world in order
that doesn't exist

shall we humor her--
amused at such imaginings?

certainly we do not need to fight her

what danger is a ghost
that loves to tell stories?

isn't that what we pay for
and call entertainment?

crumpled fingers

crumpled fingers
hold tight
to the crumpled
paper
bits

the hidden note
from the teacher
you dread to show your parents
is still there

sitting right there
on the floor
of your heart

a weight
that ties you to the dark room,
ties your eyelids
shut--
laced with a past
remark
that labelled innocence
wrong,

and told a darling infant
she wasn't shaped quite right--
if only she would sit still
instead of jiggle,
she would be safe

and the world of wonderland
became in that moment
a very dangerous place


crumpled fingers
hold tight
to the crumpled
paper
bits

open now
your hand
to see the ink
was but a passing thought
and long ago washed away
in the rain

it never had a life
of its own

for that teacher's eyes, too,
were sewn shut--
and who can teach a child
about the sun
when they live in the dark?

crumpled fingers
cannot
share

the currency remains

Open your door

"The stillness of the peace of God is mine" (acim lesson273)


open the door



stay open



 let love in


allow 
everything

can you just listen?
just hear it...

all thoughts
are welcome
here

room
at the inn

kick no one,
no thing,
out

extrapolate
no thing,
no conclusion,
but Love,

winging it to you (in every thought)

what you leave out
will incomplete you,
perceive you: "not enough"

only what you exclude
from you
will be lacking

as far as the eye can see
and beyond
to imagination,
allow

it's all you

seek the lost 
lambs,
they are but starving
for your love

feed your hungriness,
heal your heart,
'til the morning beams

and so it is...

no choice.

blind

How can illusions (past and future) satisfy the Son of God(now)? (acim lesson 272)

don't you think it's amazing
that peas come right out of the ground?!

cherries fall off
 trees
right outside the window

right now,
just look in your refrigerator!


beautiful rich black earth
old coffee grounds
worms
raindrops
effortless megatonsunstarship

and peas!
for heaven's sake!

grace

how can you really fear
when you see such wonder?

we walk right by it
 everyday
and don't even say
thank you

rollin'

it must be Spirit,

 that can watch

without attachment,

but

just looks 

with compassion

the same appreciation

as an artist

looks on a curve,

a color/image/thought

sees a whirlpool

 waterflow

 bubble surface

and float...

a particle of dust

floating in sunlight,

living under other values

than gravity

it hasn't surrendered yet

to mind's regulations,

undefiable boxes

where does the slippery fish

slip in

to the pond

wholly round

and rolling,

walloping!

in the silence of a tiny silver box?

in other words,

where do the children play?!@ ay ay ay ay...ay ay ay ay?

yeah,

that is the question,

Mr. Adult Serious World:

at what moment did you forget to laugh?

because 

the children haven't left!

and neither has laughter!

but those boxers

are

a bit too tight!

steamin'

some days 

there's a chattanooga choo choo

just waiting for you when you wake up

sitting on the sofa

the steam rises

through you,

there's no holding back

the surge

the coalshine

the floweasy

whistlin' dixie

shine those shoes

like daddy did

the smell of polish

the soft flannel

the waxy rubbing,

'til the sun hits it

and you feel it 

all the way through

they just come,

when you finally

give it all up

that's the joke, friend

wink

multiplying zero

the mind is like a forest and a gas pump at the same time

you can be standing by the stove,
so far away in time and space,
last year
in california
on the phone
with an imagined voice

and before you know it
you are eating something

your mind is in the subway,
somewhere dark,
underground,
it traveled
at light speed

you didn't even know you were gone,
dreaming while "awake",
lost in thought,
but you can't even say where

you just feel the emotions and know it must
have shown you another world,
a fantasy,
where what is, isn't
and what isn't, should be

there is an uncomfortable knowing
that you left the baby out in her car seat,
but you can't quite put your finger on it

there's just something wrong with you,
and now that is wrong, too,
and like a layer cake
the mind pours forth
to jump on you
and deeper and deeper and deeper
is the original fantasy submerged

til
even a minor
couldn't find it
if he went in for surgery

cuz how do you actually find
and prove
what isn't there
in the first place?

and that's how the mind is like
a forest and a gas pump,
dark and prolific,
the unending multiplication
of what is not there

shedding our skin

we've shed our skin now,
those slippery black pants,
the sequined dress
and high heeled shoes

who needs to tower now?

a bridge isn't about height,
it's about connection,
horizontal,
horizons,
not vertical reaches
to higher ground
to places i'm not

just a touching,
so very tenderly,
right here,
right now,
exactly where i am--
not one particle off reality

just touch 
me
and the separation
is gone
that never was,
but seemed to bear
a life of its own

what a glorious surprise
that death is not loss,
but connection with all that is...

without a note?

gray hairs are like notes on a scale

wouldn't music be incomplete without them?

is there such a thing
as a bad note?
a bad C#?

i heard an improv guy
once say a "wrong" note
is the beginning of a new song,
a new path,
a new direction

why isn't a gray hair seen so?
a soaring bird!!

a new path!

a letting go
of childhood?

the two yellow leaves
should be there
on the philodendron--
just right--
in tune with the hundred other green leaves
lavishing the end table
like curls of a magazine model

it's the two yellow ones
that catch my eye,
that invite me over,
to sashay down and around and up
with the rest

all green--how restful;
and yellow brings a wink
of caution,
slow down,
yield,
surrender,
to the unstoppable
unchangeable
gift of motioning
onward
to places unknown,
spaces unseen,
unfelt
while in the crib
of
no gray hair...

Safety

" Your safety lies in truth, not in lies" acim p425 (wb)

Truth: What is 

now

no choice

no decision

no other

no opposite

no past 

no future

just "this"

fear requires "a future"--a nanosecond ahead of this one and therefore does not exist 

now is all there is,

in reality, truth

guilt requires a past--a nanosecond behind this one--in order to look back on/imagine and judge it, and therefore does not exist

now

can never exist now

which is all there is 

in reality, truth

Identify with love/now

and you are safe

Identify with love, and you are Home/now,

the only place you can ever be

Identify with love

and find your Self

there is no where else it can possibly be

but now

Your safety lies in truth/now, 

not in lies--imagined past, imagined future

Grace always now

you can never leave the now(God)

no matter what you think

what you do 

how much you protest

safe forever

in reality

very kind

herein lies the end of all suffering/ the Peace of God--What Is

the "death" of anything, but Love

all "wishes" that anything be different that It Is,

is the fear of God/Love,

"your" death.

Oneness: (very simply) What Is

love,

joy

tick tick tick

temporary

like sand paintings,
a child's sand castle,
and there is joy!
 in it's "destruction!"

 the little boy kicks it up
and jumps on it and
scoops it up to build something new

 (it's destruction. is it true?)

transformation...

was it ever really a castle?
or was it always just "sand"?

is it "sand"?
or bits of a huge "rock"?
a "mountain"?

all ground up
that once flowed
as lava,
liquid rock.
is it possible--liquid, rock--
that opposites
be one?

life and death.

could they be one?

not opposites?

Itself

i have given myself everything
i have ever experienced

wow!
the sleigh
the slaying
of goods piled high
toppling over

yes, i have given me
every interpretation
of every moment
of every "person"
(that's a "person". is it true?)

every loving kiss
every promise...
broken
every sin
every rejection
every sparkle
every miracle
every "death"

all
within

the story told
that seems to unfold
before my eyes,

but created these "eyes"

behind these "eyes"
"body"
"hand"
all concepts

the untold
the unspeakable...

un speak able

un judge able

absolute absence of the ability to judge

to distinguish

Itself from Itself

Father

"Father,"
and I am back into the correct perspective,
receiver of all that is,
given this "life',
a baby
not knowing

respecting something much bigger

Wisdom caring for me
ever watchful
experience pre-seen,
nothing new

'my' future,
It's "past"

long ago outgrown

holding here my hand
connecting
the bridge
sanity
safety
presence
fearlessness
"seen it all..."
seen it through to the complete fall
of the temptation
to believe there are two

apple, apple on the tree

without the thought "i created myself"

i see i am the apple on the tree

i've done nothing for  this juiciness
no one can stop the process of ripening
nor stop the bees from buzzing and pollinating
nor my scent from wafting
nor the sun from warming me
nor the moon's gentle gravitation from tiding even me...

the storm
the lightening
the rummble of thunder
is all undeniably part of me

and bonk!
just in time
dropping to the earth,
not in charge,
supported
i start to melt
to ooze and liquify
and pour back into that which i came from

the seeds within
sprout
and sprout and sprout,
it is done

"i" can claim no credit,
no ownership,
for any thought
any idea
any Love

"i" did not create myself,
here is found the end of guilt--
for it alone would attempt to prove,
to convince "you"
that "you" did
it all

take no credit for anything--good or bad--
and you are free
for there is no good or bad
and only guilt would pray it so.

without constriction

this moment,
heater
sun
pen
couch
gratitude
     no need to leave
     no desire to leave

gratitude opens fully to see
to receive
all that is

without gratitude,
constriction--
eyes shut tight,
vessels  squeezed --no flow of blood, oxygen

suicidal microscopic vision
cannot even see
the sun!
blazing everywhere,
but inside the shut eye

gratitude is
but an open eye

only look!
you cannot  miss it!
fingers
toes
light
air
breath!
breath!
breeze
oh oh oh the wafting gentle touch
lips
so tender

without constriction,
your prey lives,

dances merrily about,
see the dresses
petticoats sway and furl
deliciously to the
rhythm of your heart!

let your heart
open
as big at the sun,
bigger still
and see
what is!!!

take it off

a leaf

you lay these words
on the unnameable
the wild
the free
the un born

how dare you rip the life away
from that yet to be

oh don't you see?
don't you see?

the unspeakable
the impossible

"a leaf"
you say,
and fail to look,
the end of the search,
the end of "it".

dead end: "leaf"
"i know"

no no no you don't
know the splendor
the infinity
as long as you name it

you stop opening opening opening
to Divinity

that leaf is you.
if it is small and dead and boring,
unworthy of awe,
then so are you, brother.

that dirt,
that rock--
you, sweetheart, you.

is it separate from you?
then oh how lonesome,
how very heartsick
you must be,
and to proclaim anything else
is but denial

you are incomplete
if you leave one leaf
out

take off the name!
now!
and begin again
to wonder...

ah....yes....
how wonderful
a world of wonder
is...

Thank Youniverse

Thank Youniverse
for this house, roof, walls, windows, light
jade plant, keyboard, washer, rug, floor, kitty
warm lap, blanket, heater, lamp, pen, hand that writes
ink, paper, ice, water, couch, legs!

have you given thanks for your legs today!!!
your foot
every toe
nail
shoe
lace

do you see the care?
every detail,
orthodics
color
design

cup!
to drink out of
carry across the room
space!
ciousness
quiet
solitude
Christmas cactus overlapping joining
painting of treeish shapes drizzles and drips

fireplace
whispering pine branch catches eye
so gentle
it dances
and the surrounding branches a bit wilder

waving crispy "leaves"
dangle
rest
continuous flow of shifting shapes
so light
most of the others
have fallen
this cluster remains
for me
such grace,
this detail

nothing too great
fuschia blossoms still shining

yoga mat
2! blankets
pillows on the floor
yes, far far far more to be grateful for
than i can ever say

all the letters
in just one book!

lack is only 
ever
complete denial
complete blindness
to what is
right here
right now

pure grace

death: (of "me", ego--the only death possible) realization that it's not possible that anything could be different than it is right here right now

if I believe/conceive this thought/dream, i miss everything that is.  (insane perspective of ego/"me": "i miss everything".)

thank you for being!
love, joy

sipping raindrops!!!

open meadow
fields of gold
mile after mile after mile of corn
farms, soil burgeoning dairy
ice cream cherry trees laden
honeybees

morning has broken
for the first dawn

this,
ever This

there is sunshine in your coffee!!

the very hottest rays burned through the atmosphere
right in these beans

this water fell right out of the sky!
literally!

sipping rain!
ooh... and warm sunlight

the sweetness!

what must i be now?
but also this fiery warmth
simply radiating
in all directions
without any effort at all--
nothing i can do to stop
the warmth i share

and rain,
yes raindrops!
flowing through,
circulating
watering my mouth
skin, nose,
even falling down my cheeks
right out of my eyes,

watering my heart

oh what shared gifts

i, just a raindrop
i, a swoosh of sunlight
i, a handful of ground up beans,
soil,
earthworms, too--
literally!
can't survive, not one breath,
without the earthworms

so sweet, so humble
to crawl,
to slither
in the home i am,
not one quarter inch above it

what gargantuan effort it must take
to try to convince myself i am separate...what a story!!!
and why!?

what is there at all to be gained?
what is this "you" claim to be that is greater than the sunshine,
a raindrop, and a worm?
Can you make coffee out of thin air?

so all else you claim
as a separate entity
is nothing but
thin air...

a crock
of nothing...

the sparkling raindrop remains...ever freely falling to you, through you, as you and out up into the sky
forevermore

just One
sipping
Itself...

Good Morning!