AWE/mirror of heart

The cosmos plays us with illusion: it mirrors and inverts perception to draw us towards light, truth, unity... We want it, but first we must survive. We get the metaphor, just an old upside down one, then we sit on the record scratch and bump bump into illusion like big sweet babies. Inversion is a somewhat kinder road for the real to be revealed. Can we cultivate love and trust for our beloved nemesis/selves over the lash. What is it in the eye that reverses all things so carefully? Where the eye sees out, it looks in. Only through our receptiveness to what is, does the "mystery " vaporize. There is a Mystic's Awe that Multiplies. We were made from stars, and our potential is to be a vehicle for the cosmos, but most of us are hallucinating a lot of the time... We often wear our tomb stone around our neck like an albatross: Here lies [IWM]. Die before you die. Die to broken thoughts. Imagination brings us closer to and further from the real. Is it creative or is it separating. If i was that blind, how blind am i Now? Enter into some kind of communication with a larger reality. Drop some veils-(not all, please)- of the imagination. We are naked, together, slave and free, yet were afraid of XTC. Love is the intention behind the intention. "Stay the same. Change." Who's voice is that? Loosen the tourniquet on your heart. Do a head stand to see something different, be a fool and let the blood of the heart fill your head. Just don't be stupid. Time IS love and love is what is passing. Also will the music of this breath and heart beat. Make your house your home before you fly away.
( first entries are at the bottom- with a different format bc im not that technical!)


I started Early

I started Early -- Took my Dog --

And visited the Sea --
The Mermaids in the Basement
Came out to look at me --ED

So at a knock

(the lady of situations)

I emptied my cage

To hide in the world

And alter with age. - RF

Love consists in this, 
that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.- RMR



Hail to the veil of
blindness and sight

 kind mind reveal the path in tangible bites
make the path of dissolution easy and fluid in its fullness

dreamer seer knower lover beloved starry nights
drape your blanket round this dome to admit a smudge of light
a subtle shift is a magnitude and a death in this little life

The evolution of the neocortex and sex are parallel processes
The drive of spirit towards spirit marches on.

moon becoming shadow
 = potentialities


Pikture book

opposing quotes and a few of my latest favorite images posted by David R and beyond

Robert Frost said poetry is lost in translation.  Another person ? said it is actually in the translation where the poetry of new forms are born and creation lives.  If we determine to define ourselves as fixed in identity, country, belief, inaction, we fall prey to rot. If we are too porous anything can come in and anything can fall out.  If rigid, very little penetrates- so sad! Integrate so no thing is stagnant. No thing is with out multiple intersections. Everything is fleeting unfolding potential.  The watcher is the constant axis within the whirling. The watcher is the friend.  Consult your own purpose. Trust yourself and become trustworthy.   Black is first light.  Consult the darkness and the light.  Light draws the darkness.  Be not afeared. The flowers are always unfolding. Far more liberating than the phantasmagoria of Black Friday and"choice" is the recognition of belonging to something VAST.
Photo National Geographic:  Orion Space Jewel
"I was a Hidden treasure who longed to be known" -Koran
our bodies are made of stars.
(manet) revealing the veil
AW - love this image.
Increase in bewilderment, wonder- S. Sovatsky says in an increasingly demystified world materialistic interpretation often prevails an anchor to the filament of the web of mortality holding us back from the deep space of whats unknown.  Mirroring our past moving infinitely back instead of forward as we age. Our minds are accumulative machines built for survival and vastly awe inspiring. Yet we, - i  and you regenerate hallucinations from the past more than being innocently open, even naked to the potential awakening of the moment and the face we gaze at.
Now, i will enrich my own weighty materialism and consider another thing of beauty to soften my surroundings.
A rug with lovely lines.