a bet against nothing

 

Karen Divine - iPhone photography

 

The suitors came a-courting –
some to convert; others
to conquer.

They built their bowers
and cast their glittering nets
but

it was a bet against nothing
and nothing always
won.

 

See, I was taken at birth by
a groom I could never meet;
wed for life to Its presence

(inescapably cradled,
unconditionally
loved)

our consummation flowering
in my disappearance –
afresh in every instant.

 

My groom is the keeper of nothingness:
the nothing that can’t be named
or owned, yet

overflowingly fulfills.
It is my constant consort.
And so, tonight

I drink my wine and dance
alone.
How could I be happier?

 


Image:  iPhone photography by Karen Divine

Karen’s work is featured at my website the awakened eye


mooning melts the night

 

Utagawa Hiroshige (Ando) - Wind Blown Grass Across the Moon

 

xxxii

a moment arrives

without a need of the past

the full moon rises

 

xxxiii

a thought bubbles up

a preference is posited

the moon doesn’t mind

 

xxxiv

the bubble bursts, pop!

awareness has no center

mooning melts the night

 


Image: Utagawa Hiroshige (Ando), Wind Blown Grass Across the Moon
Woodblock print
Collection, Brooklyn Museum, New York


silence has found me

This poem was originally posted on one of my other blogs in 2009. During some cyber housekeeping I found it again and it spoke to me with the same intensity expressed six years ago. It wants to be shared here on ‘the echoes’. With love.


 

Johann Heinrich Füssli - The Silence

 

silence has found me

its ruthless simplicity
has culled the clutter
from closets
I never knew existed
in the corridors of my brain

its unstoppable tide
has drowned the demon
that danced through my days,
demanding:
control, adjust, fix!

its throbbing roar
has muted the mutterings
of protest,
the pleas for reprieve,
from the screaming ‘me-me!’ myth

its yawning vastness
has swallowed whole
the impostor who once laid claim
to this luminous lifestream:
t i m e

its perfect love
has melted all that I took
to be me
in its crucible of fiery
Grace

and the receptors in these cells
heard the words
the whole world hungers
to hear:

you are loved!

how could it be otherwise
when separation from your essence
is impossible?

 

be silence

and Know

 


Image – Johann Heinrich Füssli, The Silence, oil on canvas, 1799-1801
Source – Wikimedia Commons


Reblogged from this unlit light


you will not be missed

Photograph by Andy Ilachinski

 

You will not be missed by Life

– you,

a minuscule synapse in Its immeasurable web

of pulsing intelligence.

 

Yet, if you stumble wideawake into that synaptic self-

less identity – against all odds,

turning away from all cultured data-input –

Life will support you in unimaginable ways

(you will speak of Grace, you will kneel in awe)

as you flow the info-field for the fulfilment

of Its One Uncaused Thought

 

Make no mistake

you will not be missed by Life, ever.

The nano-speck of measurable matter

known by your good name

will be recycled to beneficent use

in the interest of the

Holy Whole.

 

You will not be missed by Life

Beloved

because you can never go missing,

even when you pretend to die.

 


Image by photographer and physicist Andy Ilachinski

See more of Andy’s fine work on one of my other blogs – the awakened eye


Synapse?


the shock of seamless intimacy

 
Miriam Louisa Simons: the shock of seamless intimacy

 

when the myth of separation erases itself

from the mind’s story-trove

one free-falls into a view (there’s no choice about it)

that’s viewerless

the shock of seamless intimacy is usually hair-raising

devastating, humbling

no separation! outside & inside – same!

repeat: same!

– – –

all those stories one tells oneself about oneself

and the mythical others

all those resolutions made in the aching lostness:

practice! diligence! discretion!

all those stern exclusions: the egotist, the phoney

the ignorant, the ‘evil’…

all those fantasies about embracing

some Unknowable Immensity

aye

all those comforting conclusions; certitudes acquired

along a streaming lifeline

gone – synapses wiped

– – –

only this Nothing that excludes nothing

remains, on Its knees

utterly undone

fully full

and excruciatingly sweet

– – –

 


Image source unknown. Please notify me if it’s yours, so credit can be given. Thank you.


creation is a selfless selfie

 

Echoes from Emptiness: Photo by Miriam Louisa Simons - Lanzarote aquascape

 

the seeing of It:

the ripples and reflections
the surface and the cool depth
the sun-snatching edges and the calm continuo
the tones, textures, colours

 

the watching of It:

the naming and the recalling
the emotional embroidery, the visceral memories
(pain and pleasure both flushed my cheeks
on that windswept isle in the Canaries)

 

the knowing of It:

all that unfolds before, behind, within and throughout me
as this world I call ‘mine’
shimmers fluidly in a center-less, owner-less
wideawake Aware-ing

 

I am Not,
but the Universe is my Self.

– Shih-T’ou, A.D. 700-790

 


Image – swimming pool reflections captured on a long-ago vacation; Lanzarote, Canary Islands


 

have you seen my mind?

I’m not sure what it is about full moons, but they seem to turn on a tap of poetical scribblings here. June’s full moon: it’s cold and audaciously bright as it rises behind the tropical foliage that protects my terrace. Three haiku fall from my pen…

– – –

Bats flying across the full moon, NSW, Australia

 

here’s a state of Grace:

bats flying across full moon –

my webbed wings, aloft

what a paradox –

my greedy seeking has ceased

yet nothing was found

have you seen my mind?

I can’t find it anywhere

though it’s right in my face!

 


Image source