Self

No beating heart.
No blinking eyes.
No breathing lungs.
No sleep or dream or dreamer.

 

 

.

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Here

What is here?

Where is here?

Where is my centre?

Where are my boundaries?

What is my shape?

 

No shape.

No colours.

No edges.

 

No beginning and no end.

 

Everywhere without distance

or separation/limitation.

 

Full without form.

Empty without lack.

 

All that is One.

 

Witness of The Dream.

Not a part of or apart from.

Unaffected by the soup of experience

bubbling away.

Onions don’t make you cry

when you have no more eyes to see.

.

The Breath of Life

The Breath of Life

The Breath of Life
comes and goes.
It appears in these lungs
so that this heart can beat.
It exhales in the world
so that flowers can grow
and the cycle repeat.
In to go out.
Out to go in.
A divine dance.
The ebbing of a wave.
The composting of death to make new life.
1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.
Leaves on the wind.
The wind of God.
A divine breath.

The Breath of Life.