Archive for July, 2013

157. The writing he leaves behind

Walking with his dream

Walking with his dream

The little kid

Is walking an ancient path

The rocks become brittle

And turn into sand

The little hill

Loves to feel his feet on its back

The little hill and he

Are good, loving, friends

Sometimes it rains

And memories of old friend river

Turn to memories of old friend mud

But he walks on with old friend wonder

And you can read his writing

Which he leaves behind

Written on the air

When you see

A leaf falling

Or when a bird

Flying through the sky

Is gone. 

 

This came when I could not sleep at 3 or 4 from the pain.

I thought that what would come would be bitter, frustrated or something of this sort. But this came, almost as it is.  I made only a few little changes. How can it be?

How can I be tortured physically and have this come through me?

What do you think?

For the time being, my body is there and my mind is here. Soon my body will start following my mind.

And where will I be then?

156. One poem with three names

1. The Green

2. The Habits and the Flow

3. The Human Condition 

The reds go to the green

The reds go to the green

But he is overwhelmed and afloat

The river flows rigorously by him

And everywhere else

He remembers the river from a dream

 

The browns are curious, supportive and showing the way

Just as the lines of his drawings are

And the Green welcomes them

 

There are golden drops all over the place

I told you he is overwhelmed

I did not tell you it is joy

 

The reds are riding in dutifully

Hoping they are in the right direction

Reminding of biblical tribes of nomads

Who always go to where the green goes. 

A few notes: 

The nomads who follow the green are the subconscious habits that we have. Of course I did not think this when I wrote the poem. You try to escape them by changing your life and there they are with you again.

This is a description of my life at the moment. Of course I did not think so when I wrote it. The lines help me a lot to see clearly.

The joy is all over the place, in the curiosity, in the creativity, in the love, in the beauty, in itself.

The poem has power because it speaks in pre-language. You put words to it but it is the pre-language that speaks.

The river was seen sharply and clearly in a deep state, showing me that the flow of real life is always right here with us, strong and eternal.

Why is the green the hero?

About satisfaction: 

When beauty is created through you there is satisfaction.

It is the beauty that came through, that puts you in wonder, provoking deep appreciation and thankfulness, that you can also call satisfaction.

You feel you did something that is meaningful. You expanded, surprisingly. You have more love now. This is satisfaction.

Do you need anything? No. Thanks. Everything is OK.

155. Soft light starting to increase

Soft light starting to arise

Soft light starting to arise

He is

Very intent

Focused

With his playfulness

With curiosity

Like a child

With a pure heart

Waiting

And the morning is coming

The soft light starting to increase

And we ask

When will he realize

That he is the sun

That is arising?

154. Parts play with parts

 

What is now

What is now

From here down it is earth

But earth does not exist

From here up it is heaven

But heaven does not exist

So what does?

The immediate experience here now

And what does it say?

The light has given birth

To the soft flesh

The soft flesh has separated

And parts play with parts

Imagining ins and outs

Firmnesses and softnesses

But look:

Up in the air

The angels caress us all

Breathing eternity. 

 

So tell me: Who are you? Are you the parts? Are you the light? Are you the angels? Or are you eternity? What do you want to do now?

153. Right behind it is you

 

Upside down moon

Upside down moon

In this upside down world

Where shame is king

And the beauty of the evening moon

Breaks your heart

Isn’t it natural

That we choose to make art?

There is a mountain range up in the sky

And there is a mountain range down

We are just waiting for the bird

To sit on a bough

The bird who’ll come to laugh at me

For going again

In the same old rout.

This is about automatic behavior. An old program kicks in. You find yourself angry at someone and afraid. You desperately seek your connection to the eternal, but the subtle and kind all-that-is will never push his way in. You have to open the gate.

And you have done just this so many times already, but there is still some more. And right behind it, lo and behold, right behind it is You.


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The healing process

Entries 1-58 show how I use the method of Intuition Through Art to heal myself from Peripheral Neuropathy.