–
all things are aglow
at the hub of their life’s Beingness
fireflies, flitting
across the weave of time and space
that veils
the unknowable humming dynamo
of the bright dark
–
Image source unknown.
this unlit light
prajñāpāramitā
always at home
in this inescapable
bright unlit luminescence
this crucible of Creation:
Mother of time and space;
vast unknowable knowingness
always at rest
in this ultimate abode;
unassailable, yet ever available
prior to the mind
container of consciousness –
beyond the concept of beyond
always at home, always at rest
always already
p e r f e c t
. . .
the vastness of unimaginable you
261
He who would rest in
perfect peace
must know the nameless name
whence all things rise
and bloom and cease
returning whence they came.
~ Tao
.
What IS this “nameless name”?
The echoes whisper and scribbler scribbles …
.
The wild wideawake
knowingness
that can never be known.
The brilliant light of
awareness
that has never been lit.
The perfect present
suchness
that can never be escaped.
The vastness of unimaginable
You
before you are labeled and defined.
~
self-shining radiance weaves its world
229
This sweetly sun-drenched morn, not yet invaded by clamor of traffic and neighbors, is an artwork of breathtaking beauty.
Shadows, patterns, textures, tones and movement mingle – all woven together on the loom of color.
Color is light.
Look carefully at the world:
do you see anything but color?
Nothing but color.
Nothing but light.
Look again:
What is looking? What sees?
Nothing but looking.
Nothing but seeing.
Nothing but awareing.
Self-shining radiance is the weaver,
working at the loom of color vibration,
creating a world in which to see
ITself.
Remember?
~
think on this, whispered the candlelight
187
folded up on my zafu
venus rising, a brilliance
above the coral horizon
where soon the first
radiance of a new day
will emerge
legions of bats, black
against indigo, are
winging their silent way
back to their favorite
over-day treetops
but it’s still dark enough
for my candle to be
queen of the shadows
and she whispers to me:
“If the light of your awareing
wasn’t brighter than my own,
how could you see me?
I am but a shadow-play
of the unviewable, unlit
Light that you are!
Think on this. And when the
sun climbs over the eastern rim
and reaches into this tiny patch
of sacred space, undressing
the dark,
think on this again.”
~
unimaginable: unfurling unlit light
177
In the deep darkness of night – no slumber in sight – bum sits on cushion, eyelids draw down of their own accord, breath flows in breath flows out. Beat of heart, song of great silence.
Out of infinite velvet blackness points of energy emerge.
They spiral into appearance, and as they do so they take on mandala-like forms. Some are glorious flowers. Others are crystalline and geometric. Others are snowflake-like, a blend of organic curvaceous-ness and geometric patterning. Still others are spirals, simple vortexes, or radiating arms like the spira mirabilis. There is no color, only milk-white light playing in the black vastness.
The energy forms appear to move towards the witnessing Awareness, spiraling and expanding, and then they move right through and into IT –
an endlessly unfurling pulsation
emerging, spiraling, flowering, and flowing,
penetrating and dissolving into
the unknowable Knowingness
that is ceaselessly watching.
~
the pure self-shining Self
144
and I asked:
if this unlit Light cannot be seen by any kind of viewing apparatus –
since that would be like an eye trying to see its own iris
what ‘saw’ that Light flowing in front of closed eyelids?
what ‘heard’ those archaic words echoing within the skull?
and I was reminded:
always and ever
there is only
the pure self-shining Self
awareing
ITself
~
echoes from emptiness 