complexity abounds
as we try to understand the heavens
in old tried and true ways..
the universe accelerates its expansion
so we must conclude there is something
more than the matter we see
pushing with extraordinary vigor..
naming that something as dark matter
existing in universal darkness
is apparently beyond our viewing..
we conclude: emptiness is not empty..
and nothing is not no-thing..but..?

these many thoughts..among many more
promise only unending searches
using science's outdated lenses..
enter a new lens:  
the consciousness-only Scope..
where it is discovered that everything lies within..
is known by..and is made of consciousness:
consciousness is our reality..not all those things..
things are our fleeting  thoughts and perceptions..
yet our scientists are reluctant to cast off
their deep-seated learning..and in surrender
discover..at last..the truth
for which they are searching:
emptiness and no-thing
contain vast possibilities..many appearing
many..not...

a car approaches
and passes..
sight and hearing
pass into hearing
and memory
now fading and
leaving behind
only memory
now fading and
leaving behind
an emptiness
filled with possibility
including another
car approaching:
these moments
brought to you
by your gift of
fleeting perception...!!

a writer writes
with rapt attention to words
attending special nuance
erasing and rewriting..
this is attention to content
it is thought control
and self identification
as a cluster of thoughts..
then come sensations
of contraction and limit
slowing the writing
stemming the flow..
so..seemingly we must
recast attention to the
space between words
allowing the words to
dissolve or burn
and await new thoughts
from an empty place...

despair lodges raw in the body
which is deemed separate..alone
a contracting pain of
a weighty thing..
a darkness which admits
no suggestion of hope..
but hope seems to persist..
armed now with discovery
of new identification
of a white field which
surrounds and penetrates
the weighty thing..
allowing resistance to resist
the white foothold gently
is placed..hope enlarges into
knowing and seeping into
an emerging surrender...

the vast blue sky stands
as the consciousness-only model
the model of truth we seek..
we have arrived after
many long centuries in which
other points of view have sustained
civilizations..their rise and fall..

the model of materialism has
dominated science and thought
reaching impressive heights..yet
intuitions are venturing questions
of blue appearances in the clouds
clouds of words and
models outworn..

like a small airplane looking
for a hole to punch through
and sail to a destined port..
the clouds are the habits of
centuries which impede the
recognition of truth..
fearful of the vast blue
we allow cloud covering
to delay the day
of plunging into truth...

anger can do it:
has the capacity to veil
seemingly completely sometimes
that which we are..
it is the ego-cloud covering and
gaining authority in
situations of separation
of which we are attending..
could it be..really..an invitation
to perceive a lining of light
or..the screen behind the movie..
the ego-cloud then may disperse
and be discovered as a gift
from grace...

on this sunny occasion
I with my iPhone became
an observer..positioning..
for not-posed snapshots..
in such manner
the photo shows the
in-between..those moments
when a knowing re-asserts..
a masking responsibility
softly subsides..
sometimes it is a photo
of longing for home
beyond the distance...

it is called variously:
the fork in the road
a message from the universe
an intuition of new beginnings..
a couple meanings:
first..a longing to reach something new
something more fulfilling
than that which seems
as stale of late..this is a state
of searching..which we all know well..
as for  the other meaning..a discovery
that the fork or message or intuition..itself!
hides in its singularity that which we seek..
rendering our new choice as one of
expression!
of that pointed discovery..and a
new path is entered with joy...

the lyrics are
burning with emotion..usually..
with earthy attractions and
experiences..
but with new perspective
our focus widens and deepens
with the ring burning
our illusory smallness
bringing awakening
to that which lies
beneath the ring..
with never ending defocus
and haltingly at first
we fall into that
infinite sea of love..
and we abide as that
which we always are...*



Love is a burnin' thing
And it makes a fiery ring
Bound by wild desire
I fell into a ring of fire

I fell into a burnin' ring of fire
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher
And it burns, burns, burns
The ring of fire, the ring of fire

I fell into a burnin' ring of fire
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher
And it burns, burns, burns
The ring of fire, the ring of fire
~~Johnny Cash

Walking lightly
into the setting sun's
spreading rays
between and between..
her form slowly
submerged in darkness..
the details of sunlight
yield now to the
no-boundary darkness
to a wholeness
recognized
where memories of detail
revealed by the light
now dance many dances
in the dark...

The poem
is formed within
and made of ourself..
It is the waveform rising
in this moment from the
infinite potential resting
in each of us..
The poem rises and colors
the moment and then dissolves
as a wave into the sea..
The remnants which remain
inscribed on a page
is for readers who follow
bringing new waves
rising and coloring
and resting once more...

The rabbit scampered across the yard
then back again to a starting point..
This is to isolate one of a plethora of
seeming random happenings of nature
in my yard this morning..
Bringing to attention the private
nature of the rabbit's perceptions..
We might imagine the excursions of
the rabbit's mind..but to soon realize
these are but our own excursions..
But what is there holding those
excursions: the rabbit's and mine..?
Whatever That is
is our common world..
That through two special glasses
morphs into two private excursions
along with those many more
taking place in my morning world...

When in the dark of night
before a glint of early light
informs of the dawn
we hear his waking crow..
Might it be that Rooster knows
what we have long forgotten..?
We are of the strong belief
in sequences gained from habit
while the Rooster knows
by instantaneous insight:
no separation at all
in the always dawning
light...

a glimpse of nature's eternity...

A term
usually derived from nature:
morphing..form to new form..
we might however
find quite revealing
a plucking of words to
arrive at a morphing metaphor..

realizing
there is only consciousness
a morphing of consciousness
takes place in what we find
as color and shape..

you and I
and the cat
are various morphings..
new colors and forms:
temporary morphings
amazing styles fill our wonder
and dissolve one day soon:
might we say a morphing
in reverse
to reveal that which
all really is...

It is a simple language
of pointing images:
similarity pointing to unity
difference pointing to multiplicity..
similarity to realization
difference to hiddenness
similarity to creating
difference to creation
similarity to permanence
difference to temporary..
these teachings
for our eventual discovery
of peace and joy:
there is only unity
wearing the infinite colors
and forms
of multiplicity...

There are dark notes
from our skyways
with expressed alarms
over democracy threatened..
Our laws and modalities
descended from that declaration
of the reality of equality
now centuries old..
That reality is permanently
our identity..each of us..
in all our conversations
and news conferences
which come and go..
Our experiment points to
a recognition by all
and will be repeated
'tho ours in our peril
trudges and reels
fearing darker days...

let's go directly to the place
we already are..
to the Awareness which
is our identity..however hidden
it seems..in this moment..
from our empty Awareness
our world we create
in this moment..or not..
you and I are Awareness:
we need know this
to the chagrin
of that smaller person
who enjoyed hiding
this new discovery which
you and I need to make
before we die...!

this is the fundamental new path
which science and philosophy must tread
in our days marked with confusion and strain:
our minds view what might be known
through a lens which limits the known..
until this lens fact is known we will remain
in a fundamental morass:  not knowing
ourselves..and by extension..not knowing
countless appearances dancing and
tantalizing our search for truth...

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly--. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.

~~Rainer Maria Rilke

Do we live behind a thousand bars
those bars posing as illusion of a
separate world out there..upon which
our small finite self paces and paces..
paces..and searches for the happiness
which..on occasion..quickly illumines
our ritual dance..but soon plunges
into our clouded vision..once more
we are pacing behind passing bars...

~~CC

it would seem
that the sufferer engaged in suffering
might process her suffering
through one of three gates..
gate 1: the sufferer becomes the suffering
and attempts to wiggle free..finding temporary
relief..or perhaps an unsought intensification..
gate 2: the sufferer enters into the pain..looks for
boundaries..finding none she notices that in which
the pain resides..and comes home..
gate 3:  the sufferer bypasses the suffering to
immediately arrive home..then returning to
the suffering..she saturates it with the infinite
peace of her home...

and we note..suffering stimulates a search
for any gate yielding relief and peace...

our culture seems to rely on gate 1..with ongoing
search for those other gates...

of course..follows the inhale
but..if observed carefully
seems to represent a departure
from a transcendent inhale
and an experience of variation
inclusive of..everything..
this is the moment of creative
possibility..with the light
of the inhale illuminating the
ordinary..in shining paradox:
the inhale experienced as
exhale...!

what is The Journey..?
it is a perennial experience
in which we are observers
of that which moves
from time to time and
from place to place..
it is the discovery of
a new identity as
timeless and placeless..
new lenses present
  times and places
as temporary colorings
as appearances
in The Journey of
freedom and creation..
former journeys of
sights and sounds are
dissolved in a
dawning recognition:
The Journey is always
Here and Now...

is there a possibility that
from those many images
we might discover the fruits
of our fearful identity:
that we cannot welcome
those so desperately
needing our welcome..
our abundance is re-labeled
as scarcity and from
very constricted corners
we fear..with a desire
to reach a happiness
threatened by the
wholeness of welcome..

do we need to recall
those words of equality from
our founding Declaration..
to uncover the perennial truth:
Welcome comes first...

we are all searching for
happiness..for contentment..
illusive it seems
and we may resign
our search to futility
among what appears
on our way..
then we hear the story
of the moth's
attraction yet fear
of the flame..
desiring desperately
to know the flame..she must
merge with that flame..
in our searching
we hope to find
our consolation among
appearances darting
in and away..
we fear the vast
nothingness which houses
all of the coming and going..
do we..as the moth-- need
to merge to find the
happiness..which is our
joy and flame...?

thoughts are hardy travelers..
when an object enters perception
thought delights in the new form
and may choose to linger:
naming and comparing and wishing
for new perceptions with new
datapoints..
a search may begin
seeking new understanding
and perhaps a request for
a stronger instrument for
new sightings..bringing
new perceptions with new
naming and comparing and
new wishing..
waystations on this journey
are highs and lows
highs..marking possible ends
and lows bringing irksome
questions with a message:
your search is far from
complete..
then a Question from grace:
will the end ever draw nigh..?
rest then arrives
for the weary traveler with
recognition and surrender...

the bible was cited:
words of law and obligation..
a constricted justification for
family agonies of separation..
forgotten are the words
of fulfillment..closely following..
which immerse the previous words
in healing tides of love...

a bible session...

is the story we all share
as it repeats 10000 stories:
including yours and mine..
each of us awaits a discovery
that our story was written
long ago..we of the 10000
are searching simply..for the
happiness we once knew..
the search ever widens to the
mountains and seas for the
buried treasure we intuit lies near..
there are chapters of our story
of joyful findings which end
with a new chapter re-joining
the search..then just sometimes
desperation delivers..as our story
dissolves in the happiness we seek..!
and the prodigal is home...

is creation itself
a rising in and of
consciousness..
a simultaneous birth of
a 2-sided coin:
subject/object
as thought and perception..
the birth is convincing
in its colors and boundaries
appearing as both
savory and unsavory..
along with its birth
comes ego's desire for
the happiness
which once it knew..
questions are a threat
and its defenses
often most militant..
fears and desires
conceal real happiness
retaining that most
convincing coin...

the extreme forms
we know as abuse:
alcohol..drugs..***..food..
there are also thoughts
reflecting deep-seated bias..
perhaps a political persuasion
which has lingered for
years of a lifetime..
can we speak of
an addiction to happiness
or are all of the shades
really a search for happiness..
the ego searches and insists
that the search among objects
will locate the illusive
happiness..
the search might occur
in more subtle terrain:
religion and forms of
spiritual practice..
yet these must also
bear their shades
of addiction..

is creation itself
a rising in and of
consciousness..
a simultaneous birth of
a 2-sided coin:
subject/object
in thought and perception..
the birth is convincing
in its colors and boundaries
appearing as both
savory and unsavory..
along with the birth
comes ego's desire for
the happiness
which once it knew..
questions are a threat
and its defenses
most militant..
fears and desires
conceal real happiness
retaining that coin
of unhappiness...

this dream repeats:
finding my way to a
place desired and finding
confusion and
pathways indistinct..
glimpses of the destination
and worries over delays
modify the dreamscape..
how to explain..?
perhaps the dream dimension
lacks the peculiarity of
the waking state and
non-locality is introduced..
a teaching may be there:
to welcome the undefined
the softened edges
discarding the map
finding satisfaction and joy
where I am...

there is a clinging
a proneness to dismiss
an intimation of
mind over matter..
separation as ego
rises up and protests
this interruption to
long-held comfort..
another win and
the world proceeds
on tenuous paths
of longing with fear..
yet mind over matter
is only known by
experience of our
identity with an
eternal substance
of which all is molded
and named as both
longing and grace...!

magic tricks have always delighted
and an explanation awaited..
but now
with a consciousness perspective
a new understanding arrives..
non-locality is the norm
locality: simply a temporary coloring
of the all-encompassing non-..
oneness and synchronicities pervade
as have always pervaded
but for our limited visions..
so..magic now may be known
as the experience expected
in the reality now realized
as home...

God has been named and created
from an image of separation..
The creation retains the illusory separation
in a reality which searches to close the gap..
Resistance rises in the form of a-theism
and in the twin dilemma of
belief and non-belief..
New birthing cries out
for recognition that any name
only points to the Infinite
named as Consciousness..
Yet..alas..another name for
the unnamable..
Silence works best...!

Where does thought come from..?
Seeming to arise out of thin air
and in our lives as
subject with object..
A nuisance sometimes
in meditation and 
interference with our sleep..
As we give thought
an identity and authority
we create a tyranny  
most difficult to overthrow..
Backing off..we notice
thoughts are alive in
time and space
but do not survive
in the presence of now..
Why?..presence is open and free
not knowing of constricting
time and space..
And joyously..we are always
that presence..awaiting
recognition..and a 
good night's sleep...!

We are not that which we think we are..
If we do not know the true nature of thought
thought will always deceive..
Most seem to identify themselves with their
thoughts and perceptions..these limiting lens
find limiting identities..and suffering..
and lives of quiet desperation..
So..evidently..we must change our lenses
vastly expanding our views
finding..at last..the identity which
we have always owned...

seems to be what we do:
overlooking the reality of the field
luminous..peaceful.. and available
the substance of all our days..
famous teachers
some acknowledged
as gods and gurus
are just like you and I
but with a realization
(followed by notoriety)
of the overlooking and a
simple waking to what is
being overlooked..always
available to you and I...

art provides a glimpse
of eternal reality
pointing to our identity
an identity that seemed hidden
until an artpiece parts the curtain..
and the curtain itself now glows
as it has always glowed behind
our curtained perceptive...

do this and
taste the beauty
in the seascape
and all around..
extricate the tangling
and regard yourself anew
as the luminous whole
which is your birthright..
then look again at the
sea and mountain
and experience
the taste of the
forenamed beauty...!

the vine
a new name coloring I am..
the shepherd is now the vine
the hired hand the branches..
the colors change
but I am..our identity..remains..
branches express the separation
which we all experience..
we live in what seems as
a subject-object world..
as branches we seek the vine
unaware that we already are
the vine..!
then it happens in a moment
as the seeking wearies
our false identity as branches
is burned..at last revealing:
I am the vine..and the
fruits of joy burst forth...

There is an approach
to self-recognition
arriving daily to many..
A direct recognition
of what we are
comes from a
very subtle noticing..
A soft kick
off the line on which
we have walked
in years of practice
and assumption
and fear..
A quick quantum
recognition of some
arrangement of nature and
past futilities of a sudden
are bared...

Religions may be born again
when invited..or urged to return  
to the Perennial Light
their home and source..
Religions develop as a
prodigal..securing adherents
to their veiled vision..
Forgetting their source with
esoteric practices and colors
adding fearful demands for
adherence..for control..
Scriptures seem opaque
but carefully viewed
often point to their source..
As adherents depart
and the light of criticism
penetrates many layers
there remains
a longing for new birth..
It is a call from grace
to resurrect and remember
the Perennial Light
and watch for emergence
of something brand new...

this is about what we call "pets"
about ownership..objectivity..
an anachronism now..?
the inner model of
consciousness-only
may provide a hint:
only consciousness Knows
not plants..not animals..not us..
that is a radical reversal
of our heretofore belief
that consciousness springs separately
from each compartment of life..
considering again:
only consciousness Knows
is aware..and is expressed in
every-thing..every-where..
this equality of Knowing
filters through our finiteness
our body and mind
and through our "pet" dog
and through the turtle at sea..
So.. we pause:
consciousness only..Knows

All endeavors in life
need a start in Peace..
Peace is our experience
without the
thoughts and perceptions
which seem convincingly to
declare an independent world..
Another name is Silence
which all may experience
any time and any place..
That is the start..
Now appear words
of sameness and difference
which appear to break
the Peace and Silence..
Words bring longing
for that place before
wounding words unfold..
(The cosmic joke:
the place we were is
the place we are..?)
We await the arrival
of life's many teachers:
scripture and nature
neighbors and friends
an evening concert
a startling dream..
Teachers carry words
words as thorns
to remove the thorns
which hide the place
we long to return..
And finally: all thorns
burn in the glow
of returning Peace...

curtains

the curtain torn
is the light exposed..
as centurions all
we carry dark curtains
concealing our light..
exposure might come
with shock and awe
or right now
in a quiet pause...

you might note
the following blank lines
in which several words
are now deleted..
perhaps..


or words
in this space
were never written
perhaps..
nevertheless
the space
expresses the only
surety we can know..
it indefinitely flows
and enlarges into
wide margins we notice..
the space has retained
the secret of words
which did or did
not play..
and the words
if they played
day or night  
played as space
eternally white...

is that no-time
between time of sun
and time of darkness..
a gateway
momentarily cleared
for a glimpse
of the eternal..
not day and not night
but a joy grasping
inflicted by the
dark colorings of
one light...

A direct experience
Of a space-like reality
In which thoughts-perceptions
Appear and disappear..
The Knowing-Space
Colors and un-colors
In endless variety
With seeming borders
And locations pretending
An utter independence..
Thought is using these words
In a convincing way
Until we recognize
Once again
The Knowing-Space...