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Re: Lips pressed against Infinity

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  • Jeff Belyea
    Thanks for the drink, Sandeep. Deliciously refreshing.
    Message 1 of 2 , Feb 2 12:03 AM
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      Thanks for the drink, Sandeep.
      Deliciously refreshing.


      --- In meditationsocietyofamerica@yahoogroups.com,
      "Sandeep" <sandeep1960@y...> wrote:
      >
      >
      >
      >
      > Once there were many moments,
      >
      > now not even one.
      >
      > No beginning to this not even one moment,
      > no end, either.
      >
      > Within this not even one moment....
      > ...a parade, a procession of perceptions....
      > each with their own beginnings
      > endings, languages of
      > straight and squiggly lines
      > cast across the surface of water,
      >
      > water of life
      > watery canvas of shifting light
      > never the same,
      > always as is..........
      >
      > welcoming equally light and darkness
      > infinite variations of shine and shadow
      > birth and death
      >
      > all life
      >
      >
      > restless surface
      > silent depth
      > irresistible depth
      > bottomless embrace
      > dying daily to this depth
      >
      > this endless not even one moment of life
      >
      > waterfall of feeling
      > falling into itself
      > its depth
      > its silence
      >
      > just as is,
      > always as is.
      >
      > No shore
      > no embarking or arrival
      >
      > a journey in a dream
      > river in time
      > watery destination
      > the destination of liquidity,
      > mid-air at the waterfall:
      >
      > drops of elemental being,
      > flowing unity
      > bursting into billion momentary
      > gleaming tiny fleeting voices
      >
      > roaring life
      > pouring life into life
      > receiving itself
      > welcoming itself into itself
      > perpetually
      >
      > just as is,
      > always as is.
      >
      > Nothing bound
      > nothing loosed
      >
      > timeless flow in a dream of water,
      > a dream of shine and shadow
      > flowing into each other
      >
      > dissembling and assembling
      > disintegrating and reintegrating
      >
      > beyond any comprehension
      > beyond any narrative description
      >
      > any motive or goal or
      > passion or prescription but
      >
      > just as is,
      > always as is.
      >
      >
      > Yes, along the banks of this
      > river of myself I stagger,
      > intoxicated by the wine of
      > my own watery being,
      >
      > this life of waves
      > rippling over stillness
      >
      > the still pool of heart where
      > feeling breathes so quietly,
      > so potently while
      > the tears wells up from this depth -
      >
      > just as is,
      > always as is.
      >
      >
      > Forehead rests
      > on the cool stone floor
      > before this altar,
      >
      > there is no dividing place
      > separating flesh and bone
      > from the pillow of stone.
      >
      >
      > A drifting through endlessness..
      > eyes blinded by the brilliance
      > of mysterious light --
      >
      > its reflection
      > my own
      >
      >
      >
      > Palms turned
      > upward, naturally
      > holding everything to everything.
      >
      > Palms as light
      > as the feather that I am,
      > feather on wind's breath.
      >
      >
      > The mere fact that the
      > yearning is present is proof
      > of possibility.
      >
      > That yearning always followed and....
      >
      > ...Something........ placed that kiss
      > upon my heart,
      >
      > now the clouds
      > filled with light
      > glide through this night
      >
      > each an exhalation
      > a sigh from deep space,
      > the space between sighs
      > deepening --
      > deepening into my sighs.
      >
      > Bowed on knees
      > A kneeling of heart in my own heart
      > the heart, life made so
      > I could feel it.
      >
      >
      > This is what
      > it does,
      >
      > it is
      > what I do.
      >
      > Who speaks,
      > who listens?
      >
      > Does this water sutra
      > depend on any lips?
      >
      > Lips which can only be pressed against Infinity.
      >
      > I follow backwards into that
      > yearning of water for
      > Itself,
      > that breathing song
      > I cannot forget
      >
      >
      > The incense I burn for
      > the world
      > burns for me.
      >
      > Between fingers
      > a slight sensation
      > before the final ash --
      >
      > A final sigh
      >
      > the momentary flicker
      > of acknowledgement...
      >
      > .......of welcome
      >
      >
      >
      > Ah
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