Colour & Sound permeate porous conscience saturating & reverbating awash & adrift infiltrated by rays of light pure & impure sharp & dull hard & soft
from the East there shines both a brilliant blue light & a dim white light in the Mirror there shines both a brilliant white light & a dim smoky light from the South there shines both a brilliant yellow light & a dim blue light from the West there shines both a brilliant red light & a dim red light from the North there shines both a brilliant green light & a dim green light
aware of every noise in this impermanent realm a cacophony that banishes even an ideal of silence the roar of oceans the creaking of forests claps of thunder the rippling applause of the audience the clash of shifting tectonic plates controlled demolition of skyscrapers incessant babble of voices bird song & whale song barking & mewling screams & howls of pain sighs & moans of pleasure susurration of waves sound of metal impacting against concrete
those pure bright piercing brilliant lights sharp and hard of blue white yellow red green arising in the Eastern Extremities in the perfectly polished Mirror in the Deepest South in the Western Reaches in the Farthest North I desire their light attached to their promise but I am afraid of their pure bright piercing brilliance their razor sharpness their diamond hardness
the impure dim soft dull lights of white smoky blue red green beckon hazily but I hear someone I knew someone who cared for me back then say mantras tantras & sutras so I abandon all attachment to those impure dim soft dull inviting lights
even when the multi variegated rainbow splendor radiates forth I turn away to wander inwards to wander downwards in the bardo a limbo this new different intermediate state
Sometimes it is difficult to look into you For your eyes are a mirror reflecting Staring through the facade of facile charm Seeing into my ragged threadbare soul Held together with staples and sellotape An echoing chamber of other’s voices You already know that I’m ancient and weary And I fear your lofty disdain and contempt
Sometimes it is difficult to look at you For I know that you possess qualities That blaze with the intensity of a young star Nurturing vast seething potentialities Spreading a soft burnished golden light Over the warming oceans of its satellite Illuminating the deepest ravine and valley Far too fierce to be gazed upon directly
Sometimes it is difficult to look upon you For this is samsara and we are flowing Downstream towards the roaring rapids By chance we floated past each other And I felt a fleeting sensation of affinity But soon the current will change course And with each ebbtide we will drift apart Taking different tributaries to the destination
Retreat in the Spring Hills-unknown artist circa 12th Century CE
“To pass through these Obsidian Gates that separate the known world From the barbarous Western Lands populated with dog-headed peoples, Bizarre creatures, devouring demons and ferociously hungry ghosts You must give an account of the Way, for I know who you are, old man I saw through your disguise of being a humble hermit straight away I know that you are the Archivist of the Most August Emperor You are the one they call the Old Master, the Ancient Child, A transformed butterfly, the eternal dragon of the Southern Sky.”
The hermit was silent while the mists dissipated and gathered again There was a definite chill in the late autumnal air, winter was near The night watchman huddled closer to the flickering flames of the fire But the old man didn’t move an inch, just sat without saying a word He seemed to the night watchman to be melting away into the fog As he fall into a daze watching the play of shadows on the walls Against the damp stone he thought he glimpsed something other Then the Old Master began to speak in tones more ancient than days
“Do you know what you ask when you demand an account of the Way? I alone am still, I recognize no signs, I flow as water and with time What words or characters could convey the Way, by definition ineffable? Worse, names and words divide and subdivide the world indefinitely There are many righteous paths to follow if you wish to go astray A thing becomes this and a thing becomes that when really it is of itself But if you insist I will say in terms terse, enigmatic and ambiguous Because the things we cannot speak of we must forever remain silent.”
Bartolomeu Velho-Figure of the Heavenly Bodies-1568
The stars above, the void below only inclines So tell me what is the force that compels Enduring love, boundless desire, the dream sublime
Of the unmoving still point, bisected lines The circumference of a circle that swells To the stars above, the void below that inclines
Our too human nature toward the divine Seeking with the uncertain aid of garbled spells Enduring love, boundless desire, the dream sublime
Rendering us breathless, tongue tied and supine In the velvet gloved darkness of fur lined cells Looking at the stars above, the void below that inclines
Towards the solution of this difficult equation, a cosine That in the timelessness of the One we will dwell In enduring love, boundless desire, the dream sublime
That now then and what is to come is yours and mine Nothing in nature or the world can quell The stars above, the void below that inclines Toward enduring love, boundless desire, the dream sublime.
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