Sharp divisions...

Sharp divisions

Appearing..

Seeming to deny

The nothingness

Inherent..

All OK

It's what's

Happening

And not...

Bits and pieces...for the New Year...

 

It's all about

Stories:

The beauty of 

Nothing...

Clinging to

Nothing is

Still  a

Clinging...

A word is

The numerator

"Not" is the

Denominator...

Any path

Is and is not

Beautifully

Nonexistent...

The territory

Is not mappable 

Yet maps appear

As the territory...

When edges

Seem blurred 

Truth feels

Sharpened...

Storybound...

Storybound..

Not a word apparently

(Snowbound is not

Redlined so passes 

As a word..)

Binding to stories

Seems the way of

Wanderers and wonderers..

And there seems no

Escape from the binding..

But relief apparently can

Arise with resonance:

We are inescapably 

Storybound... 

Not knowing is alive with..

 

Not knowing is alive

With a burst of knowing

Appearing as the

Sunrise on this

Winter morning...

Darkness as a friend..

 

Darkness

Is a friend

Per the song..

Darkness of

Separation 

Writes the 

Stories of life..

Seeking stories

Arise pursuing

Light in darkness

Making up the

Drama of life's

Amazing futility...

A light story..

 

There is

A story of

Light and its

Staging as all forms

None excluded..

Everything is light 

Appearing..

And more..everything 

Captures the

Story's ending:

It's all nothing...

Holograms..

 

Holograms

Everything appearing

As a pixel..

This is beyond

Comprehension..

A paradox arising

And perhaps

Another:

Everything is nothing...

Appearances of knowing..

 

A chaos of

Differences

Makes up the

Territory..the 

Unmapped

And the mapped..

Yet these are

Words..speaking

Of separation..

Appearances of

Knowing...

A place of the past...

 

A place

A place of the past

According to records

Appears in photos

And possible memories..

These words point to

Everything happening

For the reader

Of these lines...

He checked out groceries..

 

He checked out groceries

And loudly proclaimed

Each contribution of a

Customer to a family fund..

His exuberance was

Over the top..

Embarrassing perhaps to

Others checking out

Yet love appeared in his eye..

Extraordinary and ordinary

The seeming separation

Illuminating illusion...

Sonnet #2...

 

The story

Of the separate

Individual includes

Of course

The seeming wearing

Of time on what was

Earlier known as beauty..

Forty winters takes its toll..

The story might continue

With the notice of the

Beauty of offspring..

And the notion that

There is no separation

Beauty with 

Two appearances...

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,
Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now,
Will be a tatter’d weed, of small worth held:
Then being ask’d where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved thy beauty’s use,
If thou couldst answer ‘This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,’
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.

Sonnet 2 modern English explanation

When forty winters have attacked your brow and wrinkled your beautiful skin, the pride and impressiveness of your youth, so much admired by everyone now, will have become a worthless, tattered weed. Then, when you are asked where your beauty’s gone and what’s happened to all the treasures you had during your youth, you will have to say only within your own eyes, now sunk deep in their sockets, where there is only a shameful confession of greed and self-obsession. How much more praise you would have deserved if you could have answered, ‘This beautiful child of mine shall give an account of my life and show that I made no misuse of my time on earth,’ proving that his beauty, because he is your son, was once yours! This child would be new-made when you are old and you would see your own blood warm when you are cold.

Divergences of love..

 

Alone together..

Separation it seems

Speaking and responding

Pleasant and not so

Or opting out..

Arising as appearance

Divergences of love...

The end of the story..

 

Attention to change

Masks what's permanent

The seeker's story..

The story is immediately

Empty and beautiful:

No permanence

No change and

No seeker...

Not-knowing in play...

 

Communication

Appears as connection

Two to speak and listen..

Appearances of two

Evident story

A magic story

There are not two..

Not-knowing in play... 

Paradox pointers...

 

Paradox

Appears and

Burns the story

And itself..

A shocking

Turn of events

In a story...

Stories are

Appearances

Of knowing..

Paradox points to

Not-knowing

Which may 

Empty these

Appearances...

Paradox

Is a sudden

Pointer

In a story

To the immediacy

Of emptiness

In all stories...

Paradox

Sets a fire to

Separation's hold..

Impossibility

Is the new story..and

Possibly peace...

Leaving Eden..

 

From all appearances

It seems we

Have departed from Eden..

And

From all appearances

It seems we have not...

Trapped..!!

 

We seem trapped

In a cell of separation

Nowhere to go 

No escape..

Searches aplenty have

Pursued remedies..

Blind searches for

Not-knowing 

Fueled by desires to

Break out of the

Beauty of what

Is simply happening...

A new dawn...

 

A new dawn

Arising and

Replacing the

Darkness..

Literally and 

Figuratively

This is the

Conventional

Belief..

Emptiness

Appearing as

Sequence..is

Non-conventional..

Not-knowing is

Peace...

Time and place...

 

Time and place

Remembered as

A flashing dream

An immediacy

A living feature

Of emptiness...

Paradox is spontaneity..

 

Paradox 

May or may not

Resonate..the

Solidity of separation

Pushes a likely

Dismissal..yet

Paradox is the 

Spontaneity of

Not-knowing...

Long ago memory...

 

A long-ago

Memory is

Impossible for

There is no

Long-ago..yet

Appearing anyway

Framed by time

And space...

Space appearing differently...

The space

Inside of an

Abandoned house

Is the same space

As a busy street corner..

No separation

Space from space..

Space appearing

Differently...

Sometimes Nothing is Heard...

 

Nothing and

Speaking are

Not separate..

Nothing appears

As speaking..

So..sometimes

Nothing is

Heard.  

What is the territory..??

 

The territory

Is nothing

Posing as a map...

Excitement about the dream...

 

There may be

Excitement about

A dream discovery..

Which is of course

The dream getting

Interesting..

And the dreamer may

Want to show and tell

And maybe convert...

Map time...

 

A map

May arise

From time to time

Seemingly to

Explain what

Is not explainable..

Map time...

Uncompromising..(JoanTollifson)

 

"We know beyond any doubt that we are here now. I’m not talking about knowing our name, our gender, our occupation, our history, or even the idea that we are “a person”—all of that is second-hand knowledge. I’m pointing to the first instant, the knowingness of being here as aware presence itself—not those words, but the ungraspable yet undoubtable actuality to which they point. We don’t need to be told that we are here now, present and aware—it’s not a belief—it’s undeniable. Yes, the words I’m using to point to it are words we’ve learned second-hand, but the bare sense of aware presence, of present experiencing, of being is direct and immediate. It is impossible to doubt and requires no belief." ~ Joan Tollifson

Is the word...

 

In the beginning

Is the word..

And the word

Is not separated

From violence

From love..

In the ending

Is the word..

Is..indeed...

Roots of freedom...

 

Stories 

Are all 

Ultimately empty..

Even those appearing

With scientific diligence..

Deemed as reality

By a consensus is

Another empty story..

However..is there a

However..?

Perhaps touching on

Roots of freedom...

Nothing appears to move...

 

In appearances

Nothing appears 

To move...

Peace beyond words...

 

Words

Pretend separation

Claim attention..

Are deceitful 

If pretensions are

Swallowed..

If not..there can be

Peace beyond words...

A plan..

 

A plan

Is a story

Projected into 

What seemingly

Lies ahead..

A wish for 

Control of 

The imagined..

Control of

Emptiness...

Presto..!!

 

There is no

Separation

To appear as

Separation..

But presto..!!

No separation

Apparently

Finds a way...

Vibrancy..

 

No word will do

To express what

Cannot be expressed..

But apparently there

Rises a need for

At least one..

The word points

Without claiming to

Limit or define..

"Vibrancy"..OK

Why not..?

"The noun vibrancy comes from the adjective vibrant, which means "strong and resonating" or "full of enthusiasm and energy." In the 1550's, vibrant meant "agitated," from a Latin root of vibrantem, "swaying to and fro." There's a strong connection between vibrancy and vibrate, or "resonate."Sep 26, 2016

Appearances..

 

Appearances

Tell stories

By imaginary

Connections 

Before and after

Above and below

Similar patterns

And differences

All persuasive

That the story

Is more than

Appearances...

Blue Christmas...

 

The blue

In Christmas..

It's often omitted

By demands for 

Seasonal joy..

Yet the blue

Overwhelms in the

News of the day..

Asking:

Can the joy happen

Without the blue?

And likewise

Can the blue happen

Without the joy?

Perhaps there is

No joy and 

No blue..only

Unfathomable love

Appearing now as

Joy..and now as

Blue..

Here and there...

Sadness and the whole of Wholeness...

 

Sadness..

Perhaps

A pursuit of

Sadness occurs

In order not

To exclude 

What often

Is felt necessary

To exclude..

Sadness is 

Invited to show

The whole of

Wholeness...

Some words on religion...

 

Some words on

Religion..

A bundling of words

Stories held to mark

Special assemblies 

And repeated over

Centuries or weeks..

All to make up an

Edifice of separation

Enlarged by  

Springing interpretations

Stories more satisfying

For uneasy searchers..

So..a religion story

Empty and full...

An old Dodge..

 

Time 

Is suggested in

An old Dodge

Which has a visage

Of rust and broken glass..

Curiosity of roads traveled

Arises..and of conversations

Encased in many years..

All the more beautiful

With the emptiness of

Time...

The Gospels and other writings..

 

The Gospels

And other writings

Are narratives of

Life as seen

Through a lens of

Separation..to

Include the possibility

Of a new narrative of

The emptiness of

Separation...

Contrasts..

 

Contrasts

Are plain to see

Taken for granted..

Obviously no story

Without contrast..

Contrasts of edge

And levels and colors

And sentiments..

Unquestioned but

Stories of discomfort

Rise on occasion..

Desperation perhaps..

Suggestions that

Contrasts are already

Nothing appearing meet

Resistance..or not...

 

Two narratives...

 

No free will

Because there is

No one..

Such is spoken..

Yet also spoken

Free will is an

Available gift..

Two narratives

Both shining as

This...

Sonnet 1...

 

The self contracted

Is the churlish appearance

Of abundance..

Abundance may appear

As a fresh ornament of spring

But this appearance

Seems lost in the 

Self's pained separation...

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decrease,
His tender heir mught bear his memeory:
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed’st thy light’st flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content
And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding.
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

Backlit..

Backlit

The light behind

Is not behind

Except in the

Conventional way..

If not behind

Separation stumbles

Paradox suggests

Not-knowing

Appearing as 

Backlit..

Rivers are rivers

Again...

"A weary world rejoices.."

 

"A weary world

Rejoices..for yonder

Breaks a new and

Glorious morn.."

Joy arises 

With the sun..

Unexplained

Unpredictably..

Appearing as

The seeming 

Persistent

Weariness...

Where and when..??

 

Where and when..?

A question which

Underlies life as lived

A teaching

Unquestioned

Deepened

Separation assumed

Suffering too

Death feared

Immersion in this story..

So goes the day as

Indescribably This...

No escaping This..

 

There is

Belief of lives

Lived in separation..

There is seeking

For home

Where wholeness dwells..

There is seeming discovery

Of being already home..

All are stories

 Indescribably This...

Perspectives...

It seems that a key element in all non-duality commentary, is the concept of separation. If a "shift" takes place (for no one) non-separation is the new "perspective" (not really a perspective (and not new) because a perspective requires a subject and object). However, we must deal with words! Non-separation is the reality, yet separation appears, which is not explainable. Not-knowing (synonym of non-separation?) appears as knowing, so to speak. Seeming paradoxes. Yet there may be a resonance with all this, bringing a felt experience of peace. There seems to be no compromise with non-separation as the total reality. Simplification and clarity....