prayer

whatever It is

Echoes from Emptiness - Black Hole 7 by Fabian Oefner

 

whatever It is
that delivers these words
(unreachable by mind’s intent)
through this form

that’s what I pray to

 

whatever It is
that cracks open this heart
(circumventing mind’s cynicism)
to bathe me in bliss

that’s what I call love

 

whatever It is
that heals this weary wounded body
(unaided by any out-sourced effort)
restoring it while I sleep, oblivious

that’s what I hold sacred

 

whatever It is
that births and sustains creation
(immeasurable by mind’s technologies)
unfindable, yet apparent wherever my senses alight

that’s what I bow down to

 

whatever It is
that is moved by grace
(which is just another word for the unwordable)
to pray, to bow, to melt into the sacred

that’s whatever It is

entertaining Itself

 

Image credit: Fabian Oefner

without ever arriving, it’s always here

 

Echoes from Emptiness: emptiness loves emptying

 

emptiness loves emptying
that’s it’s nature
its forms are endless; beyond mind’s conjecture

you can’t arrive
at an apperception of its infinite beingness
by any practice or prayer

it is too ever-present
too intimate
without ever arriving, it’s always here

~

 

the best way forward is sometimes to stop

265

It was on the eve of a new year that she-who-scribbles sat in the throne room at the rainforest monastery and asked any deities who might be lurking and listening to reveal the way ahead.

What happened?  Nothing.  Empty spacious silence roared through the room.  An hour or so later the gong sounded for lunch.

.

.

En route back to her room, her right knee – the location of an old injury – exploded into a fury of crippling pain that would take six months to heal and would eventually need surgery.

Quite literally, she was knee-capped by the universe: 2002 was the year of the big bang!

Hobbled and humbled, it wasn’t long before what had happened in the knee played itself out in the brain.

Gratitude to all those deities, the non-local ones, who couldn’t help but be lurking and listening, and who couldn’t help but help.

Lesson:  The best way forward is sometimes to stop.  If one can’t or won’t, no problem.  Grace will step in and sort it.

~

image source: Chenrezig Monastery, Eudlo, Queensland

when I talk to you

258

When I talk to You
do I talk to an object?

You are the Beloved,
– my known ‘Beingness’.
But is Beingness a ‘thing?’

I look and I find You displayed
wherever my senses land
wherever my thoughts lead…

You never hide
but You cannot be found
or defined.

Yet You only display your creation
– ‘world’ –
via this energy pattern called ‘me’ –
an infinity of ‘me’s.

And I – (with open awe and wonder)
realize that there is no I
that can be anything apart from You.

When I talk to ‘world’
in every shape and form
I talk to You

Beloved.

~