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Spiritual Poetry

Morning Song

Body meets the morning,
remnants of I disperse in all directions.
Heart released to take its place
among the ten thousand things.
All of space thickens with joy,
solidity drained from appearances
boundaries dissipate like morning fog,
and a dreamlike Vision remains,
unearthing the blisful context
of radiant pure Being,
of no-difference,
no where-ness.


This may sound non-sensical,
but the nature of all is beauty,
beauty in, beauty out.
All that is beautiful
is just a reflection
of the inherent nature.

And we flock to all things beautiful
in grateful admiration and worship.
But they are slight reflections
and pleasant shadows
and miniscule geysers of
that which is the Context,
stepped down into form.

It's such a powerful force
that it makes this place almost bearable
and the attraction, admiration and worship
of all things beautiful
is misplaced devotion,
based on limited vision
mistaking form for its nature,
in bondage of dualistic awareness,
missing the inherency.


Brightness descends
through the filaments of the nadis,
a wash from above
like a close encounter.
Snake uncoils from the throat
yanked away into the golden ground.
Ecstasy travels to the extremities,
fingertips radiating light.
Black sludge flows from the pores
in a radiant squeeze play.
Black smoke from the mouth,
ropes of filth out the belly
as if eviscerated.

Preparing the environment
for the Lord of Diamond Light
to see through my eyes
and radiate his brightness
in all ten directions.

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