My Life, Strewn

He Would Not Eat.

HE He was wavily earthbound in his solar regalia,

the wind combing with a smile the reckless fur.

 Poised in any infinite immediate –– 

blind grace: his guide – blind

       grace: his truth –

               (raped of blade) a LION

    by beauty, by tooth,

sleek of youth.

The grasshoppers, drunken bards swaying

       in their short forest below, must have drawled

    on their fiddlelegs of

this Godly red arch –

WOULD         this blazing rainbow,

    a nomad – against the floating ocean:

born of asphalt

taught by nature.

He was a holy spark

            encapsulated in air, soaring there,

  riding insouciant (helpless!) on the fuse. 

   (I) knelt as though (I) were sneaking;

      amid the smothering crowd of leaves, peeking,

         with hand-blown glass baubles, seeking,

            desperately, HUNGRILY, seeking, HE WAS 

NOT           –– under the burning bush; and (I) 

      proffered his beloved, pungent mush.

(I) remember,

      gravely confused – yet

all the while less than he –

                   seeing his glass-vivid eyes 

still mad with life’s kiss, and thinking:

  “Life can be not more, nor less, than this.”

EAT.

  He becomes a god in the earthshine

               of my youth,

                                 the wind combing, de profundis, the soil,

having grown fat within his silent, stone circle.

There is no greater gift than this –

  he gives still, beneath his wooden cross.

organgrinder2 asked: I miss you!! How are you doing by the way? :]

I have missed you too!!! And since we are talking in the messenger at the moment, it would be quaint to say the same thing here. Hahaha :D

My Perfect Agony. 3.10.11 / 258. [YUD-HETH]

Today, I saw the Light (a subtle flock of rays it was! — just beyond the contiguous road —) and felt my spirit smile. Within I heard repetitively: “I will think: ‘by this Light is where 1158/258/N. is — today, I shall see, and dream in mirth. Tomorrow, I shall walk to this Light, and thus be one with her, gently, orangely billowing through the canopy of drowsy trees.’ But I will not walk there, for I have duties; and, what is more, I shall be questioned for quaint behavior. And what rejoinder shall I give? Surely a lie.” Ergo, I have seen the Light, like so many others, and henceforth sprung these records.

It is with stalwart bravery that one is led to smirk at the future of the Seeker: solitude, silence, penitence, “loneliness” — it is cowardice to shun these and die awake; only a Seeker lives while dead.

When the genuine faculty of Love is restrained in the sentient being, then Samsara has again clipped this being of multifarious faculties — the lowest, being existence, and the highest, being universal consciousness: Bodhicitta. 

MY PERFECT AGONY.