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The pine tree’s voice is always whispering,
Yet how many pause to listen?
For when the churning mind is still,
The Diamond Heart within
Reflects even the falling dusk that
Shrouds every eye and branch,
And hears, but listens not.
Walking, then, with Courage and Kindness,
Never ceasing to walk in Wonder,
We follow our ancient path.
For the Way of the sword is folded two;
Like the rose we have thorns,
And
like the rose, we unfold.
Ji Aoi Isshi
What any desire really
aims at, is a state of non-desire. This non-desire is a
state in which we demand absolutely nothing. Thus it is a state
of extreme
abundance, fullness.
~ Jean Klein
posted by Tony Cartledge
to Nonduality Highlights group on Facebook
Out Of Hiding
Someone said my name in
the garden,
while I grew smaller
in the spreading shadow of the peonies,
grew larger by my absence
to another,
grew older among the ants, ancient
under the opening heads of
the flowers,
new to myself, and stranger.
When I heard my name
again, it sounded far,
like the name of the child next door,
or a favorite cousin visiting for the summer,
while the quiet seemed my
true name,
a near and inaudible singing
born of hidden ground.
Quiet to quiet, I called
back.
And the birds declared my whereabouts all morning.
Li-Young Lee
posted by Alan Larus to
Nonduality Highlights group on Facebook
The Greatest Grandeur
Some say it’s in the
reptilian dance
of the purple-tongued sand goanna,
for there the magnificent translation
of tenacity into bone and grace occurs.
And some declare it to be
an expansive
desert—solid rust-orange rock
like dusk captured on earth in stone—
simply for the perfect contrast it provides
to the blue-grey ridge of rain
in the distant hills.
Some claim the harmonics
of shifting
electron rings to be most rare and some
the complex motion of seven sandpipers
bisecting the arcs and pitches
of come and retreat over the mounting
hayfield.
Others, for grandeur,
choose the terror
of lightning peals on prairies or the tall
collapsing cathedrals of stormy seas,
because there they feel dwarfed
and appropriately helpless; others select
the serenity of that ceiling/cellar
of stars they see at night on placid lakes,
because there they feel assured
and universally magnanimous.
But it is the dark
emptiness contained
in every next moment that seems to me
the most singularly glorious gift,
that void which one is free to fill
with processions of men bearing burning
cedar knots or with parades of blue horses,
belled and ribboned and stepping sideways,
with tumbling white-faced mimes or companies
of black-robed choristers; to fill simply
with hammered silver teapots or kiln-dried
crockery, tangerine and almond custards,
polonaises, polkas, whittling sticks, wailing
walls; that space large enough to hold all
invented blasphemies and pieties, 10,000
definitions of god and more, never fully
filled, never.
~ Pattiann Rogers ~
(Firekeeper: New and Selected Poems)
Web version: www.panhala.net/Archive/The_Greatest_Grandeur.html
Rupert Spira
Rupert was recently
interviewed by Richard Miller on Never Not Here. Richard
commented afterwards: "One of the most satisfying talks I
can remember. I
feel Rupert mislead no one. He was clearly sharing and also
modeling the
calm centeredness and connection that is the essence of his
message."
If you would like to
watch the interview follow this link:
http://www.nevernothere.com/rupert-spira