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Self-Stones
There are stones in my heart,
each of of them, a holder
of my self-ness, narrowmindedness, un-love,
the very essence of pain and contraction.
Abiding as the presence
of fundamental, simple awareness,
these stones are dissolved, diminished
turned to jelly, burnt into cinder,
smoke exhaled through the mouth.
The heart is then freed
from the cataracts of the self-stones
and it recognizes itself in the empty space
that pervades self, sphere, world.
The View is then expanded,
and I breathe in the whole world
and the pain of self-based existence
if replaced by the wondrous joy
of the revelation of no-difference,
the non-dual nature of all things.
August 15, 2001 (1 of 1)
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