into the silence
of your still small voice
out from my wilderness
I rejoice
outpouring spaciousness
leaves no choice
but to bathe in the loveliness
of harmony and poise.
spread out before us
this alchemy’s pouring
into anima animus
melting and reforming, yes
each and every one of us
each and every on is love.
What we believe in
we weave into actions
what we’re receiving
we feed on and store
we outwardly mirror
our inward reflections
so shine out your love light
from every pore.
This is my first post for maybe five months.
It has been a wonderful time to pause, centre and immerse into contemplative practice, private discourse and growth.
Please find below a celebration of a shared experience of pausing last week.
Pausing together.
I sit next to James’ glassy eyed breath
slurring in grief and quiet disconnect to
witness stressed footfalls pass swift his lament
brown staining duvet and cardboard cement
changeless frayed fingering in woollen damp thread
cap churning suchness through fear fuelling dread.
To follow, I swallow guilt filled regret
bus fares, fast food and dead father non-sleep
sick discharge of mother and sore bloated feet
crazings on paving, stunned cracks in shared ground
oozed out un-sparing, unseen yet, profound
re-rememberings of something beyond
so still to relax I sit side by side
still breathing with James, still leaning, we Three
for grace-filled unknowings to let this time be.
June 07
‘The path is to empty ourselves of false divinity, to deny ourselves, to give up being the centre of the world, to discern that all points in the world are equally centres.’ Simone Weil quoted in S G Reynolds Living within the mind of Christ, p206
And so with this tiredness comes fuzzy thought, aching eye sockets and another urge to close in on myself forever. The day was perfectly mellow, three counselling sessions; recovery from depression, living with chronic conditions and Aspergic anxiety, all held within the context of loving relationship suspended in a cool, quiet and highly polished room overlooking a spectacular garden and light grey lake once owned by an importantly busy 17th century general practitioner.
And now, after a night of fitful spare bed room sleep, I am too tired for speech, I can only immerse in the silent scratch of you, my most fountainous, most forgivingly favourite pad and pen………….
before each word
Silence
within silence
still these chattering noises.
how come?
how can these bedding down of desires still circulate
however much I meditate?
how can this resistance to wrest thoughts into Nothingness
be so beyond this mortal’s reach?
where are the rest of these roads to self-forgiveness
this richness to silence I so often seek?
this portal-less absence
these city curbs to this course over thinking
and throwing of verbs into the gutter all
searching for answers
to co-here and now to be
truly within a This-ness
fully beyond this heart and flesh,this body
this dirt ridden spleen of regret.
to coalesce, yes, to immerse I guess
in Breaths own breathing
in the orange and yellowings and driftings of
green as this vessel of vessels
these blood-lit pores, wait for
for wholeness to appear within the weightless of time.
for mists to swirl and fulfil in-between
flesh full narrations and this body most slain
to refresh into chanting enchantments again
to yearn for the Deepest of Breath.
‘do your breathing most breathing most breathing most best’
but
oh oh yes,
of course, off course I am surrounded again
succumbed once more to this thinking most brain.
Oh silence
soothe these aching taught abs
freed from these needs for solution
oh
Maaa-Raaaa-Naaaa-Thaaa
You distanced dream valley
with softening tones
whisper Loves balm
to these hum-drumming drums
born of a presence that never quite comes.
‘The action of grace in our hearts is silent and secret.’ Simone Weil Waiting on God page. 7
Silence:
O h h
deep rooted kiss
gift me Your mist
within this
blandishment
of body and brain.
M m m
yes yes stilled i long for such and such a
feathering breath for
Prescience to soothe
this slightness of mine
enlightening tight fists
un-pounding pale hearts
to soften free beats vibrating in Time.
as I sit
fogginess fumbles and sages profess bland
magnificence upon unclear shafts
that enlighten darkness with out
and offer deliverance within.
untamed, infinite, un-chartered glimpses
and likeness to these reported experiences is all.
Right now, unravelling blankly
in this shifting stillness I maroon
upon the plumpest cushion of nothingness
while hunger and thirst ignite the yearn
and burning embers agitate for
peace filled light.
thoughts laid down once and again
draft worries for wings
attempting to glide so far beyond
this intricate stack of ego and story and sense and
this senseless fluttering so often immerses
the purest of breath into such whining
defining nasal pretence, and yet.
still here I sit,
vainly thrusting trust forward to
pointless bottomless shining pit
to intimate flow so distantly familiar
that shakily, as if to drown in waves
of loveliness I wash the wish
that Love becomes my watering bowl
and I become the fish.
city slowness 