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#4133 - Thursday, January 13, 2011 - Editor: Gloria LeeThe Nonduality Highlights - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights
"A man knows when he has found his vocation when he stops thinking about how to live and begins to live."
Thomas Merton
Bill Lindley on Facebook
The dawning of Self-recognition is the end of isolation,
the end of separation, the end of feeling cut off from life, from
others. Its to know the heart of all beings.
Adyashanti
Buddha In Glory
Center of all centers, core of
cores,
almond self-enclosed, and growing sweet--
all this universe, to the furthest stars
all beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit.
Now you feel how nothing clings to
you;
your vast shell reaches into endless space,
and there the rich, thick fluids rise and flow.
Illuminated in your infinite peace,
a billion stars go spinning through
the night,
blazing high above your head.
But in you is the presence that
will be, when all the stars are dead.
Rainer Maria Rilke
From 'Ahead of All Parting:
The Selected Poetry and Prose of Rainer Maria Rilke'
Edited and Translated by Stephen Mitchell
"If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years,
how would men
believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the
remembrance of
the city of God which has been shown!"
Ralph Waldo Emerson's
"Nature"
Rashanai Rea on Facebook
http://www.rashani.com |
Ice Pushed Up By Tide In Sunset
Light ~ The Cove At Far Away Point, Maryland
By Peter Shefler
When it's cold and raining,
you are more beautiful.
And the snow brings me
even closer to your lips.
The inner secret, that which was never born,
you are that freshness, and I am with you now.
I can't explain the goings,
or the comings. You enter suddenly,
and I am nowhere again.
Inside the majesty.
Rumi Mazie
Lane on Facebook
The Confirmation
Yes, yours, my love, is the right
human face.
I in my mind had waited for this long,
Seeing the false and searching for the true,
Then found you as a traveller finds a place
Of welcome suddenly amid the wrong
Valleys and rocks and twisting roads. But you,
What shall I call you? A fountain in a waste,
A well of water in a country dry,
Or anything that's honest and good, an eye
That makes the whole world seem bright. Your open heart,
Simple with giving, gives the primal deed,
The first good world, the blossom, the blowing seed,
The hearth, the steadfast land, the wandering sea.
Not beautiful or rare in every part.
But like yourself, as they were meant to be.
Edwin Muir