- to encourage anyone, anywhere, in their exploration of the spiritual path that calls to them even if others don’t understand. you are not alone.
- to inform other seekers that the regular writing of poetry about the relationship with your Deity of choice can enrich life tremendously. the same is true about painting and drawing images of the Deity of your choice. it can bring the relationship alive & facilitate deeper communion.
- to demonstrate that sincerity & devotion in this approach to the spiritual is fundamental & more essential than talent or skill in writing or art.
- to urge especially those who are in the latter years of life to deepen the focus on the nonphysical spiritual realm. poetry & art can help greatly with this.
- to express & fulfill my dedication & devotion to Shiva, who has shown me all that i have painted & written about. He began with the nonverbal intuitive paintings, continued with the verbal expressive poetry & now moves to the global cyber realm. this is my service to Shiva, the Deity of choice who guides my life. (essentially this is my sadhana journal & all the images are from my camera unless otherwise noted. all the poetry is syllabic: same number of syllables in each line.) may you be inspired & energized in your own explorations & journey! namaste!
how many invisible people?
how many invisible people are present when i sip my cup of dark roasted coffee & nibble at a slice of frosted chocolate cake? i know that i am not alone as i sit here at the kitchen table. who grows the coffee beans & how many thousands of people are involved to plant, cultivate, harvest & transport them to market where i buy them? they have come to me by truck, train & ship: how many people does that take? they have to package the coffee beans, load & unload them several times. official documents have to be provided, money has to change hands, hence governments & corporations are actively participating. who provides ingredients for the chocolate cake? how many people are concerned with planting & harvesting the wheat, taking it to the mill? where are the cacao beans grown & how do they make it to the market? where does the sugar cane originate? who cultivates & harvests it & how many are needed to transform it to granulated sugar? where do the eggs, milk & butter originate for the chocolate cake? endlessly it continues: an extensive network of countless tens of thousands of people are invisibly surrounding me in the kitchen. each ingredient in the chocolate cake, every bean of the coffee, requires an immense cooperative network to manifest, market & transport it. i am not alone, never even for a brief moment! legions of people in global synergy are required in order to bring about that cup of hot coffee & slice of frosted chocolate cake sitting in front of me on the table as if i myself had made them! how many people made the table, my coffee cup, the clothes that i wear? i am up to my eyeballs in miracles of global cooperative endeavor & enterprise! (yet it is the wars that are counted on the fingertips & in the headlines in a strange collective delirium!) just as we are blind to the numberless myriads of people involved in manifesting coffee & chocolate cake, thus also are we blind to the underlying human solidarity allowing us to exist together on this planet at all. let us now open our eyes! Shiva, You have put it all vivid & clear in front of my face: how much we need one another, that we are bound together in a flow of mutual creativity & beneficial energy exchange. so just how many invisible people are surrounding me today as i drink dark roasted coffee & peacefully eat my chocolate cake? may a burst of gratitude radiate to bless the thousands, the millions, of people upon whose backs i am humbly drinking this coffee, Shiva!
the temple of the green sun
a rowdy pack of dogs goads a herd of cows through the rugged woods, where the cows take asylum in the fallow corn field by our house. during the weeks they are here they graze the field clear & they open a pathway down to shelter valley by the creek. here the cows rest safely beneath the great hemlock tree whom i call mother because of her broad, thick & wide-stretched open arms that guard & secure the cool protected cave-like chamber beneath this sentinel tree. it is a sanctuary for the cows & later, for me, my haven where i meditate, self-review & become absorbed in the ancient energies of the mountain, valley & free-flowing streams of water bordering toward the east & the west of this secluded nature preserve & branch-cloistered nurturing retreat. i call the auspicious spacious chamber beneath mother hemlock the temple of the green sun. sunlight filters through the green hemlock needles, casting an undersea glow because the branches sweep the earth around the tree & the feeling is of a sanctified place. my chair leans against her trunk as sunlight streams in long shifting bands of swirling dusty light all around & arching high overhead. for years we commune daily, the mother hemlock & i, in all kinds of weather, both inside my head & touching on the outer. then it happens: the plague of wooly adelgids arrives at the blue ridge mountains & the mother hemlock falls a victim to it. the invasive insects slowly vampirize the tree, drinking her juices. her needles fall, branches becoming bare in a few years, her power & glory sucked away, her dark bones starkly showing. i am watching a loved one slowly die during these years, for there's no cure or help for the mother hemlock. we are all powerless in the face of this fierce invading pestilence that ravages. the temple of the green sun is gone. it's now a somber graveyard, a tomb marking the death of a local goddess, & i am but memorializing her & the peaceful shelter she furnished. now she is a skeleton, bare & dark against the empty sky. goodbye, mother hemlock, farewell & my gratitude goes with you. i also no longer flourish & thrive, though it's better for me than for you, yet you are always in my memory: teacher, friend & dear companion for long, wonderful country-time years down the curvy backroads of the blue ridge mountains of north carolina. ah Shiva! growing as a tree, You show me blessings & teach me patience, acceptance & detachment. I thank You for giving this insight, for showing me You can change form yet ever reappear as the consummate teacher & companion. You are woven like a heartening red thread patterned throughout my whole life, revealing Yourself to be the heart & soul of every blessing & every challenge, connecting the varied myriad parts as one, having a single intent. You make of me a better person so that my personality may serve the world. You show me that i also, in essence, extend far beyond form, merging myself into You at deepest core & fundament, eluding words altogether. You are the dogs, the cows, the hemlock tree, wooly adelgids too. just because i cannot comprehend the whole pattern does not mean a thing & i know that fact well! i have taken refuge in You, Shiva, so let the drama play out; it's beyond my concern now. all i need is You, my Beloved, & You know that very well: You have been lighting the way ceaselessly since time & space burst forth. OM NAMAH SHIVAYAH!
the eggs of a strange bird
some blessings are so amazing that i don't recognize them as blessings for years, sometimes even decades. they are like the mystic eggs of a strange bird, bound to hatch in their own time, placed in the nest of me, knowing not what may come from them or when. i have seen blessings change into challenges overnight & challenges throw off their concealment to emerge as blessings. therefore i will rejoice in the gifts of the moment, holding them lightly that they may fly when they are called by destiny. You teach me to regard blessing & challenge with equal eyes, Shiva: as opportunity in disguise, to be esteemed. i cannot court one without bowing to the other also. we are all golden beneath the dust, deeply imprinted with the urge to evolve into wholeness. there is no turning back, no refusal to be what i yearn to be & am at heart. i will protect these strange eggs, Shiva, & will accept what may come from them with gentle respect for their divine origin.
the open door of my waiting heart
i welcome You, Beloved, to the open door of my waiting heart. all has been cleaned & blessed, Shiva. the air is scented with sandalwood & flowers are heaped in woven baskets: gardenias & hyacinths, roses & violets, honeysuckle & wisteria. i am drunk with the celebration of flowers, their laughter like tiny bells, their presence honoring You, Beloved who lives deep within. You are the raw living fire of consciousness, burning me sweetly, lifting me gently. i am Yours to consume utterly, to imbibe & savor. in this way i return to You, origin & source, who give me life even before time begins, bringing gifts of flowers & love that has no beginning or end but swallows us all fully into itself. here i am again, Beloved! let's dance this dance where two become one without a second & all melts into love scented with sandalwood. i welcome You, Beloved, to the open door of my waiting heart.
the river
it happens once that a river bids me to come & lie on its long water-smoothed swathes of stone beach & touch its fossil runes & time-sculpted stone poetry. the wisdom of the heart informs my fingertips & i am enraptured by the river: its limestone bluffs, meandering expanses of tactile river-refined stones. they tell aeonic-long tales of the survival & ascension of creatures from another geological age than this one. they move me to my deepest heart & core. here at the core i find my sincere root connection to this life, this realm wherein i now find this body. it is embedded in the moment just as the fossil beings are embedded in stone. i am not separate from all that surrounds & supports me. i too am an expression of Shiva here. what a grand dance this truly is: the minerals in these bones & the dust on the moon, all one big cosmic event! i tell this to the river as we lie on the stones in the sun, blessed by the touch of warmth right down to our boulders, pebbles & bones. i share my last dream, in which the river blesses me with a stone imprinted with the stylized shape of an eye. this is the potent dream--my invitation--that brings me here today, down the long rough country road to the hidden winding path toward the swift river. this Shiva-blessed river is kin to the great Ganges springing from snow-melt in the far Himalayan heights half a world away. i tell this to the river as we lie side by side in the sun. once again i feel time & space shift & blend inexplicably, a fresh fossil moment showing its story to be seen & known, not hidden any more. we have no secrets, stripped down to essence, to the wholeness of all existence. the river & i, under the sun & sky: we lie together on the bedrock of it all & Shiva holds us in the fullness of His pure eternal love. He is another sun, hidden behind the one we see, concealed within the mystery of the secret chamber within the heart. the river knows this mystery too & is smiling in the way that rivers can: with a thousand thousand bright shining glints of light. now at my feet i see revealed the sacred stone of my deep dream, emerging to be my talisman & companion wherever Shiva sends us, graced with helpful dreams & miracles as we go. this stone is known as "Shiva's eye," a guardian on my altar. the river is the buffalo, the first national river park, protected from development for all its wooded winding length. Shiva holds us close to Him, me & the buffalo river stone. we dream together of lessons learned & goodness to be revealed, & the river flows clear & i rejoice: OM NAMAH SHIVAYA!
one more time
need is honed by the whetted knives of appetite & truly, Shiva, i hunger for You. gone are home & husband: only You remain to feel my need & only You, my panacea, can satisfy it. after the hard fall from grace comes humility. after the blessing of divine presence comes also humility, for what on earth can long endure? i am like an autumn butterfly floating in the wind as if a bright & tattered fallen leaf spiraling in circles not of my own choosing. i am being carried home, Shiva, on this long journey of return to You, yet another weary old butterfly coasting on worn ragged wings & deeply rooted instinct as the days grow shorter & cooler & the nights fall even colder. the crisp clear nights are overseen by orion & the pleiades, who make their promises & work their spell upon my stuttering heart. i am promised to You, Shiva, carried & cloistered by messengers who are following Your firm command. my life is not my own. even my need & appetite do not originate with me but come as endowments, strange puzzles concealing Your calling card & messages written in subtle sensory glyphs which You have taught me how to read. they say, "wear it out, burn it up, let it go & seek Me everywhere as we play hide & seek in this burning ground of purification called daily life on planet earth. I will carry you home at the end." "are we home yet, Shiva?" i ask Him like a child, again & again, & we giggle & play tag in body after body one more time.
shared in the light
after the festive gala celebration comes the thorough clean-up. after the inmost insight comes steady determined application. after the fall from grace & light comes the humility to struggle from the shattered scattered rubble & resolutely rise up again: what is learned from the darkness is to be gathered & shared in the light. after the sincere sadhana comes the fading of maya's mirage in Shiva's pervasive light. He is kneading the soul as if it is bread being carefully prepared for baking. He is working His light deep into the cells that i may also be a light unto the world. wherever i am, Shiva declares it a temple & i bow humbly. i pray for the trees & the birds & for the young of all who are born to bless this sad besieged world with the nectar of their sweet purity. this is the time when abundant blessings are needed everywhere, for what is learned from the darkness is to be gathered & shared in the light.
tears
some seeds must be watered thoroughly by our tears before they can sprout:
the darkness & moisture are needed before the heat of the bright day.
things soften & fall away in the salty wetness of flowing tears.
it's too early for the light, too early for words to begin pulling
things apart or holding them together by dogged force & grim grit.
first must come the quickening tears, the basic form of the fertilizer
of the soul, for growth needs abundant moisture to support suppleness.
let the tears well up & flow. something inside is moving towards birth,
struggling slick & wet into the soft dark blanket of the deep night.
You know about tears, Shiva. You know what a cleansing release they bring.
You know that they have healing properties & a holy origin.
i will rest in You, Shiva, & the tears will serve Your purpose as i
do japa of Your sacred mantra on my rudraksha seed mala.
the lead bird
she feels it first & deepest. it is undeniable: the call. it reaches deep down inside & wraps around her heart pulling her insistently to her feet, impelling forward, onward, upward! her wings spread wide, she leaps into the air & the call lifts her up. the call blends with the wind & she is airborne, soaring in the sky. a great etheric trail follows in her wake, a sign for action. it is the vitalizing scent of the call, invoking the flock. the other members of the flock are mesmerized & magnetized, enchanted by the alluring trail that invites them to follow. as one, they beat their wings in a low thrumming thunder, lifting up into the welcoming surges of wind in the high clear sky: what a rush it is! what a perfect activity: balancing on the currents of magnetic energy pulsating from the heart of the earth to her winged children calling out gladly in flight. moving in supportive harmony together, the living cloud of birds dances in tandem with the magnetic heart of the earth, shaping messages of encouragement on the dome of the sky. the lead bird now melds into the greater flock in the natural flow of the long group flight that the planet has set into motion. a new lead bird moves seamlessly in place to guide the flock's journey. they follow the call of the living earth to their new food & shelter. i hear the call too. it sounds like OM & it feels like love, & it comes from You, Shiva, plunging deeply within, irresistible. my heart flies with the flock, held safe in the arms of heaven & earth, each wingbeat a prayer, every utterance a sacred mantra.
the numinous call to journey
the lead bird in the migrating flock follows an undeniable call that urgently flows, spine through wingtip, surging further than sight. birds respond naturally to this seasonal invocation of guiding power & the lead bird feels the pull first, drawing the others to accompany. day after day the steady relentless primal call surges through the flock. the one who leads is not concerned with getting ahead & the ones trailing after are not concerned that they are following. there is one thing only: the numinous call to journey that maintains its compelling driving force. all follow it throughout nature's vast realm, responding as they are able. Shiva, You call irresistibly & i respond to the urgency, offering myself to You. there is no lull for those who can hear Your call, nor is it needed, for being near You fills all the emptiness within.
here within these walls
when i am meditating in my room or doing japa of Your name, i am heartened by the subtle ways that You gently reveal Your presence. here within these walls may drift the rich leafy-fresh scent of forest after rain. there may be a slow warm touch upon the cheek as if You are here by me. perhaps i suddenly feel Your heat melting the ancient chill in my heart, or i look out the window & see the clouds spelling Your name in holy script upon the sky. sometimes an almost-visible blessing wave may roll through me & i open my heart as wide as i can for love to pour out. i am nourished by You, Shiva, & i want to share Your kindness freely. OM NAMAH SHIVAYA
mind & body dance in partnership
the body is temporary. that which enlivens it is eternal.
i am that enlivening spark, knowing the body as a beloved
companion animal, responsibly attending to its basic needs.
here's the challenge: the mind interprets the body's needs very broadly, hence
alertness is called for. the body's genuine needs are not so pressing
as the mind's elaborations. discrimination is needed. mind
& body dance in partnership &, as the detached observer of them both,
a balance of discipline & care evolves. sometimes the body simply
cannot have what it wants. the mind defends the body's desires,
hence alert observation, detachment & firmness is necessary.
just as mind & body dance in partnership, Shiva, so You dance with me
in this continuing sadhana, this fierce unfolding blessing from You.
the intimacy of night
Shiva, You are the purity of light that sweeps across the psyche. You set forth that which i now need to know for dispelling the shadows falling over the vision, darkening, distorting & deadening. You encapsulate me, holding me in the purity of Your light as if i am an infant clasped in the mother's arms & suckled at her soft breast. Shiva, Your fragrance is so sweet that i am dissolving in it, becoming sweetness, emitting light like a beacon for lost travelers, or like a campfire kept burning through the night to hearten. Shiva, You are the intimacy of night, smoothing all the wrinkles & rough edges that tell of a long arduous journey, soothing the hungering heart with Your calm touch. the very atoms of You & i embrace & intermingle in communion that words cannot reveal. ah, but words can point the way & they can comfort & strengthen also, until the silence grows so deep that it muffles & floods all else but the purity of light & the long slow intimacy of the night.
THIS HAPPENED 