#4071 -Thursday, November 11, 2010 - Editor: Gloria Lee
#4071 -Thursday, November 11, 2010 - Editor: Gloria LeeThe Nonduality Highlights - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights"There is a point where in the mystery of
existence contradictions meet;
where movement is not all movement
and stillness is not all stillness;
where the idea and the form,
...the within and the without, are united;
where infinite becomes finite,
yet not losing its infinity."
~ Tagoreposted by Mazie Lane to Facebook
There is nothing but water in the holy pools.
I know, I have been swimming in them.
All the gods sculpted of wood or ivory can't say a word.
I know, I have been crying out to them.
The Sacred Books of the East are nothing but words.
I looked through their covers one day sideways.
What Kabir talks of is only what he has lived through.
If you have not lived through something, it is not true.
I said to the wanting-creature inside me:
What is this river you want to cross?
There are no travelers on the river-road, and no road.
Do you see anyone moving about on that bank, or nesting?
There is no river at all, and no boat, and no boatman.
There is no tow rope either, and no one to pull it.
There is no ground, no sky, no time, no bank, no ford!
And there is no body, and no mind!
Do you believe there is some place that will make the
soul less thirsty?
In that great absence you will find nothing.
Be strong then, and enter into your own body;
there you have a solid place for your feet.
Think about it carefully!
Don't go off somewhere else!
Kabir says this: just throw away all thoughts of
and stand firm in that which you are.
Kabir album by Belle Heywood on Facebook
[To see more poems, click on Kabir's name above.]
Great religions are the
Poets the life
Every sane person I know has jumped
That is good for business
Hafiz album by Belle Heywood on Facebook
[To see more poems, click on Hafiz name above.]
Look out for Spring,
the life underground,
the life underground.
The thawing and the overflow.
Oh early, early in the morning
Seven shades of green
are painted on your door,
painted on your door,
the field alive under the snow.
Oh early, early in the morning.
Oh world of rooftops,
hearing one field song.
The walk in raincoats,
the wait for Easter, Tom.
We are awake or waking,
awake or waking from.
Here that day comes.~ the innocence mission
This song may be heard at link.photos by Alan Larus