4/24/2018

O Student of Astonishment


O Student of Astonishment,
you are not your intellect,
you are not your memory,
you are not your will.
These are just veils on a paper lantern.
You shine beyond within.
Truth is not a concept,
truth is not an answer.

Truth is the Seed
whose hollow is unbounded.

No thought, only an expiration
of the speechless, the imageless,
can carry you there.

Be no star, but night itself.
Darkness mothers everything bright.
Be that womb.
The dignity of your mind
is not
the accumulation of knowledge
but the light of emptiness.
True understanding is transparency,
embracing the radiance
by letting it pass through.

Instead of being certain,
polish your crystal intellect

with the softest cloth of inhalation.

This is the work of Gnosis
that seems so indolent to those
who think they are wise:

letting the luminous heart appear
through the window
of awakened silence.

O Student of Beauty,
none of this happens by seeking,
but by the grace of the One
who dwells in the wild 
garden of amazement.
Let her fragrance allure you
to a most auspicious drowning.
Transport her secret name
on the wings
of your breath,
and make honey from the
nectar
of invisible
love.
Through the gift of your annihilation,
feed all the children of heaven
who wait with a terrible longing
to be born on earth.


O Student Of Life

O Student of Life,
you are not the intellect,
you are not the memory,
you are not the will.
These are just shades
on a paper lantern.

You shine within
the deepest veil.
Truth is not a concept.
Truth is not an answer.
Truth is the seed
whose hollow is boundless.
No thought can
carry you there -
only silence.
Don't be a star,
but night itself.
Darkness mothers
everything bright.
Be that womb,
Student of Wisdom.
The dignity of your mind
is not the accumulation
of knowledge,
but the light
of emptiness.
True understanding
is like transparent glass,
embracing radiance
by letting it pass.
Instead of knowing,
polish your intellect
like crystal with
the cloth of inhalation
and exhalation.
That is deeper work.
It lets your luminous
heart appear
in the window
of awakened silence.
O Student of Beauty,
none of this happens
by seeking.
It happens through grace 
of the Goddess who dwells
in the wild garden
of Amazement.
Let her fragrance allure you
to an auspicious drowning.
Carry her secret name
on the wings of
your breath.
Make honey from
the invisible nectar
of her love.

4/22/2018

Earth Day, 2018

'A little sad tonight. I'm getting old, and I'm not sure if I want to be human in my next life. The weight of intellect, with all those concepts separating this from that, spurning the beauty of instinct, the warmth of fur. I confess, I could have taken human birth a hundred times. But I kept saying, "Not yet, not yet..." I'm afraid that I too might become like men, a destroyer of the earth.'

~Willy