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#2867 - Monday, July 9, 2007 - Editor: Gloria Lee

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  • Gloria Lee
    #2867 - Monday, July 9, 2007 - Editor: Gloria Lee Nondual Highlights The moon is the same old moon The flowers exactly as they were Yet I ve become the
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 9, 2007
      #2867 - Monday, July 9, 2007 - Editor: Gloria Lee
       
      Nondual Highlights
       
       
      The moon is the same old moon
      The flowers exactly as they were
      Yet I've become the thingness
      Of all the things I see!
       
      --Bunan
       
       
      Bob O'Hearn has graciously put together some selected quotes with his images.
       
       

      Hafiz, on the death of his wife.

      This house hath been a fairy's dwelling-place;
      As the immortals pure, from head to feet
      was she who stayed with us a little space,
      then as was meet,
      on her immortal journey went her ways.

      So wise was she yet nothing but a flower;
      only a child-yet all the world to me;
      against the stars what love has any power!
      or was it she
      went softly in her own appointed hour?

      The moon it was that called her, and she went;
      In Shiraz I had lived to live with her,
      not knowing she was on an errand bent-
      a traveler
      to sojourn for a night, then strike her tent.

      How sweet it was on many a summer's day
      on the green margin of the stream to lie
      with her and the wild rose, and nothing say,
      little knew I
      that she was running like the stream away.

      That was the sweet of life when, pure and wise,
      in her dear neighborhood I drew my breath;
      that was the truth of life, the rest is lies,
      folly and death,
      since toward another land she turned her eyes.

      Blame her not, my heart, because she left you so;
      the heaven of beauty called her to be queen;
      back to her hidden people must she go,
      behind the screen;
      nor when she will return does Hafiz know.

      ..................

      Hafiz, on the death of his little son.

      Little sleeper, the spring is here;
      tulip and rose are come again
      only you in the earth remains,
      sleeping, dear.

      Little sleeper, the spring is here;
      I, like a cloud of April rain,
      am bending over your little grave in vain,
      weeping, dear.

      Little flower, the spring is here;
      what if my tears were not in vain!
      what if they drew you up again
      little flower.

      posted by Tom to GardenMystics


      Fundamental Nature

      Image Montage by Bob O'Hearn

      http://www.pbase.com/1heart/fundamental_nature


      a little poem inspired by one of Bob's pictures
       

       

      The King’s scepter 

      Is an inlayed and golden stick,

      Beauty’s scepter

      Is a flower inlayed in Emptiness.

       

      King’s scepter

      Lays still at his death,

      Beauty’s scepter

      Returns to the Emptiness

      That created it,

      leaving space to a new one.

       

      Thousands of flowers sing praises

      Of Beauty,

      Thousands of flowers

      Reveal His Face,

       

      Each one perfect

      In its opening song,

      Each one perfect

      In its closing song.

       

      Om to the flowering of Silence,

      Om to the enrapture in Silence,

      Om to the Divine entertainment,

      Om to the eternal return to Emptiness.

       

      m.
       
      posted by Marifa to GardenMystics
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