we are the spirits of lifestream which is life living itself,being as prayer unto the ultimate experience that is wa too large to comprehend yet it passes
like the ray of nature's sweet glow, vital, speaking silently everywhere, brahmin grows here, what can I say, what wisdom and foolery, brahmin grows is all, the silent love, from which eternal crawls and goes
the love goes forth and to all the spirits of nature, great harmony, great motion like the motion of the sea, i am all that boundless and ever rolling changing, yet you know me well as myself
yomo, your heart, the sun fair vallies the silent people all the flowers irises, daisies sing beautiful growing, thank you everything, thank you dr. who has seen this strangeness and helped, now there only seems to be passing of the faces of the sweet moon, and the mother, who is balanced in herself in her ancient and beautiful way, for she is us deep down and essential, and even further out, philosophizing and living simply as it is. There is a spirit and the groove, kaliedoscopic guitar intervals, leave everything everytime, Goddess, nature goddess ist is you, I don't care abandoning reason, something deeper, like a rumbling wave, you mystical one, over falling through taoist koans, and nanto, izanoan the high mountain pretending of little hill and roar from the quiet depth.
Birdlike in the lingering, elements are spirits, the dieties, the simple ones, the simple things in life, the rhythm, the change, the unknown. Aigy, the rain has fallen and we've woken again, the oak brought in, and over t the acorns and carpet, our feet churn up the energies of what is just true and free isness, where is in and out, suddenly, this freedom, flying, is this that final jump, like a black hole, pulling us all in, only to take us right back, and the realization strikes like lightning. Thank you, God! Allah, you ring out everywhere, the tapping of the old rainbowl, I smile the warm orange thinking hola and you are there, just there like a rub on my leg, I know, all the universe, all the small things, this incredible natural law, you spring from, are all things not the jade emporer? I await the coming like a poet awaits inspiration, the tea, and the empty street, feelings dropping in my gut, its been a while since we've philosophized like this Flo, the walls added their approval and we left for a while round the cosmic wheels, dancing and churning in the stars like little dots appearing where the faes had though to jump with their magick pathways, like that, oh you, falling in there, into your pages, into your world of whatever, the spirits guide all this, and none is apart, for wanti rises and the great giant of everdie rises and in small in the universe, all are small. I finally felt fine just going up and speaking on the fairies though perhaps they hide, we can protect ourselves, this world, this true free, loving world, true we can't make another fall into our way, but how could one resist, knowing the truth, the fairy way, the zen way, the everyday way are the same, the highway and the hidden coast are nothing, to Nands wisdom, for here waiting now in the calm night air, I just read about maria sabina, the healing still alive, coming miraculously, nature smiling down on us, helping us, holding us through this, wise ancestor, higher self.
There are those all around, and there are voices and the strangeness, how strange and funny it is, what it does, the randomness, it is the newly born natural dharma, that springs from nature, sitting here, whatever I do, performing for the spirits, or caught in between, not quite all the way out there, but not quite silent, hidden, the invisible spilling through here, maybe with just a ghost, but a living thing too. Just the way we form, us weavers, you know? spiralling through existence, bridging love and art, art the redeemer of time from even within karma, the lotus is apparent, all equanamous, the music, like peices of something vital, in a bottle, always to grow like that, across us e and the movements too, wanti, the yoga of just writing maybe, the yoga of letters, and dramas, stories. These are the colors of all the drawings that I ever made, and all the pathways we travel open ended roaming in whatever form or formless, so Oneness has a love of Spirit and so Spirit goes out, Wanti, and all the people, in so many ways, seen all the possibilities. What is a religion, the plants, grow and their spirits become more apparent, I hold myself back but show a truth too, revealing, all of it speaks and the path was long like gravity, so let it come, is it not nature! endlessly this is the sentiment as the deer do their dances across the forest with occasional cries and all of it follows some old familiar wild pattern back to the start no ones pointing like gravity that vibration, sure its here, and everything clear all the animals and the way it works out, the great blue heron, meditation divine ecstasy spilling through the openings in my eyes, in my hands the earth, the grass, brushing, so many trees, so careful but so lovely just to dance and hear the birds sing with you again, who and what could they be thinking there, perhaps they had rushed in at the last minute, this shyness of the living world. Oh Noma, with your teas so great, who kept the streams flowing in light, and brought us all together as we should be, this shaman, he sees its not just the horizon, or the changes of the moon, everything in the world, the approach, the way, that is tao, as you grow you become like a cloud but these images, who knows what they really mean or do, there is just the pure faith, at some times, to keep us going through. In our own reactions and energetic pathways, because thats all it is anyways, the kundalini, ness flows through, things change, down to the very core, and even at the further edge, and all will change, the weed and the free nights out in the living crux. Yeah, everything was living, words no distinction all of its the same no like the light upon the page, flashing throughout all lands with something maybe a delusion but purpose, yet it set it all right and back into the true way things are, I scratch my butt, where is Flo somewhere out among whatever, doing whatever, where is time and where is whatever, all the devotion we have you know for those song circles and just the simple free good feeling that is the universe at the heart, no container needed, no map or anything, flowing free on its own, self sufficient, this must just be heall, and thats Ness, and that is in all we say this, everywhere you go, hold not to the outer form and let the arc crossasto see the truth, it is ourselves, ourselves, everywhere, and we are the creators and the ones who have done all of this, it is we, as the music goes on, it takes us back, places we must have been other wise what it is. The temples, everything set itself up, like the perfect motion of the cosmos, of its own beautiful and majestic harmony, I am in doubt thinking the words are failing me, but ever i am the underestimator, but the fixing of language, but upon it surfs something even more beautiful. I'm thirsty, the song sings on, remember it going out? it was more than a song, this moment even, was included in such a full encompassing love, and you claim to doubt, you stop trying to influence the path, for better or worse, where the poetry must take up his trail and the artist must speak, for truly it is there waiting in all things the story, the truth. People just doing their things, getting along, is it so hard?
what is it all does it symbolize something we may ask ourselves in our zazen or through the lingerings of so much endless ridiculousness, it is the joke and the humor of life that is the most valuable thing, humor in the face of everything, and the love of Goddess which rocks in every garden, grove and peice of dirt, this is the revolution of the living things, natural, in synch all things, come to this kind of peak rarely, I remember all the talk about it, the planets and what not, I just sat there in nothingness and nobody seemed to see, or care, or understand, yet something was getting out there, from inside deep inside, maybe i wasn't communicating it beautifully, perfectly, but something was getting out there, some kind of crazed poetic Goddess diatribe, reviving the forest and the woodsiness and the fairies were of course behind it all, I smiled then, seeing the connections, this is where spirits had met long ago, in the dreamtime, and created from pure nothingness, for sure are these not the ancestors and beginners of all beings, come to interact through this form, coming through with the herb, with the sky, all the stars and the things they do. You with that look on your face, sometimes, I understand all the colors in your eyes, all of it, I'm not one for stories, I'd rather just have it whole the truth, so when its just a lucid dream, that is what it is, that the seeming boundary is gone, no body ever nee,ded to explain because it just came across, suddenly, like the new me, the old me, the time growing, I used to think about the sixties and living and going all about, starting this religion, bringing back that sacred truth to world because it was coming back, and now its not just caught its still going on, but you've got to get across the boundaries of time, and the illusion, which is just gravity itself, and yet its an illusion and this is where it all began to fly, like a great bird, this transformation maybe its just all the ambition and the stories and the world about but it is that playfulness which first brings us to the liso, the fairies begin to appear and its just so different because we realize we are perhaps only the horizontal pegs, my friend sees the world in cosmic unity with itself, reaching back and slightly into the unknown where God is forever being born. Through just being nice and harmonious and letting all the art work its way through everything, its almost a matter of divine mathematics, the way things happen, this, Adawapayo, we inhabit you again, we know you familiar, we know your songs you shouts, your saying, come to us, our wisdom family is strong, the love sulos does grow, long. For it is the feeling of all the plants and people and eternal spirit growing and expanding and contracting as it should, as is the true motion of the soul which is attained through the practice of wantism.