on the day they call Christmas
Team Emelle wakes up
from its culture’s insidious story
about stars and shepherds
wise men, stables and saviours.
Team Emelle is curiously deaf
to the seductive calls
of collective consciousness
to make of this date something special.
It greets the day with a deep bow,
celebrating its everyday sanctity
with gratitude and wonderment.
It tends the Great Light
known as Primordial Wisdom Awareness
(as befits its Dharma name, Yeshe)
with its own private rituals
on its unique journey
through time’s long now.
It tends creation’s original Word
in solitary, silent, stillness.
Breath is its prayer
and its practice.
It tends the manger
in the Heart’s stable
– the soul’s sanctuary –
where the ever newly-born,
dwells in comfort and safety.
Team Emelle doesn’t buy
into the marketplace mindset.
It knows of only one present sure
to give happiness and joy,
one (omni)present that can’t be bought,
wrapped, given or owned…
a l i v e . a w a r e . p r e s e n c e
Artwork by Miriam Louisa Simons – Breathscribe series: I am here, detail.
Since the Miriam Louisa composite is made up of of many characters, to say nothing of 37.2 trillion cells and a roughly equal population of bacteria, I have come to think of it as Team Emelle.
Emelle = ML
ML = Miriam Louisa
All smiling and bowing at you right now!
Primordial Wisdom Awareness is also known as The Great Perfection
all things are aglow
at the hub of their life’s Beingness
across the weave of time and space
the unknowable humming dynamo
of the bright dark
Image source unknown.
no earthly alphabet
can scribe with line or letter
this furtive, fundamental
It is laid bare
ever available, inescapable
the gaze of Its own awakened eye
anything to report?
metaphorically stark naked
on my trusty zafu
just a couple of breaths
between mind’s madness
and immaculate stillness
this pristine awareness
penetrating, embracing, enfolding
forming and transforming
loving without measure
bright inescapable benediction
the apparent, accepted, assumed (and therefore experienced) self
is nothing more than a constellation of attributes
– all acquired –
around an uninvestigated thought
how it comes to be,
how it can be transcended,
and what might occur when it goes,
are more speculations of that assumed self
imagine! – the entire citadel of a self
rests upon a figment of the imagination!
seen with savage directness, the citadel dissolves –
it was merely a miraculous mirage
only naked inescapable Awareness remains
~ ~ ~
a silver shimmering silence sings
through this spacious beatland
it is the Word of the Great Light
echoing throughout infinite Emptiness