Poetry Corner

Beneath the

starry sky,

held firmly

in place

by

endless Grace

just THIS,

Immanence’s Onlyness

reflected

by

pale moonlight,

glowing,

beautifying All

in its

radiant glow.

Such all-encompassing

gladness,

gratitude

of the heart

for life’s

beautiful,

eternal melody.

Sitting outside,

meditating amongst

that irresistible

scent of soft

cherry blossoms

falling,

holding inner satsang,

reflecting on this incredibly beautiful Life,

Divine, unknown mystery.

Gentle breeze,

soft raindrops,

birds singing

out of sheer

joy of being

like the lilies on the field.

Thought takes flight

and so does the assumed one

they seemed to appear to

and only THIS remains,

the Finished Kingdom,

nothing to add or subtract.

Life freshly completing

itself anew

while the illusion of time persists.

Prior and untouched,

only the Infinite,

sheer light,

illuminating

all in its

iridescent embrace,

allowing, surrendering

to free and unfettered

Grace.

My heart just shines

that I am not just

one of the things i observe

and include,

that seem to hide their

sameness

cloaked in a veil

of different appearances.

My heart just shines

that I am also not just

the one that

observes these appearances,

either.

Nor the one,

lifted up by Grace

that sees them as

the same,

letting divine fusion

again happen.

No, I am

beyond both,

neither observed

nor observer,

prior to these,

I Am already only

ever THAT.

Now self is all

that remains,

unperturbed,

rejoicing in its

allness

in which

no otherness

ever occurred.

Heart-Self just shines,

self-luminous,

not knowing,

fertile ground,

open, alive

spaciousness.

Like a lovely string of pearls

luminosity illuminating

quiet stars, gently

brimming with

joy eternal,

already free as can be.

Shooting stars dancing

lightheartedly

on the beautiful canvas

this Pure Presence is,

unbound except by imagination.

Prior and ancient

yet so very fresh

and forevermore

bright and new.

All appearing in This

that remains untouched

by all comings and goings.

Resistance or surrender,

which is it going to be?

Choiceless choice happening

perfectly, peacefully

all on its

own accord,

yet helped by your

generous guidance

when finiteness made

a brief entrance,

to disappear again

peacefully.

Diamond Light, healing,

bougainvillea and hibiscus’

sweet, happy scent.

This friendship of the soul,

forevermore giving of itself,

as it abundantly pours forth

with all affection

flowing right back

to the mighty riverbed

it streamed forth from.

One!

To you All with Love and Thanks,

your Maren

I meet you all in a field of Gold
that consists of nothing
but
ever present,
sheer Grace.

Gently carrying its
ripples of consciousness
rhythmically in this dimension
in seeming cycles
between this
and
ancient
Dream Time.

Yet another
walkabout
to start,
it seems.

Prior and resting
just the still, clear lake
letting all arise and subside.

Staying in the flow,
with devotional surrender
we are
carried by a gentle wave.

Resisting ever so slightly,
swept away by a storm.

Meeting you All in
this field of gold,
magnificent, glorious
Life.

Please come and join.. http://verticalpropensity.blogspot.com

Another Reading by Kevan. 

Visit Kevan's website, you can download several books.  http://dancingyeti.bravehost.com

DancingYetiPoetry (at) gmail.com

Love

Love is never absent from the air. 
I find it there, each time
the me that blocks the view 
has wandered off, somewhere;

Like many tricky friends 
I knew in school,
love reaches round my back 
and taps me on the shoulder 
so I turn and look 
away from where she stands.
But I am not so stupid 
that I do not know her hands.

Kevan did some reading at the end of our session last February 2008. 

 When I Feel Small

This need to wear
a definition or to measure 
where I am 
against some mark 
that I believe 
is written on the wall 
can only be … 
when I have painted 
all around me
giant frescos, 
up at which I stare 
in all my tiny-ness, 
as if it were not me 
who put them there.

Back From the Shopping

I do not bring you answers, 
for no man can give
the answers that another man 
must find to live.

The questions that would
drag me to the floor 
have slipped out through the holes 
to leave my bag so light
that nothing’s in it any more.

So if you search for light, 
just flip the switch, 
or stick your head
outside the door.

Good Place to Begin

Where was I
when this change took place?

I got into reading and listening to poetry when I was in India.  Kevan Myers and I had fun with it. 

 Rising From The Earth

Bursting from my heart, the sun, 
now, unsupported in the sky
half-blinded by itself 
is feeling with the rays 
that set ablaze
a thousand hues
revealing forms 
that all night long had merged themselves 
in tragic shades of black and grey.

The light and warmth 
that’s streaming from the hands 
that you lay on, 
now strip away the clothes 
and open up the folded arms 
that shield the trembling forms,
and trumpet out their healing 
with the din of cocks and bells and buses
as the blinds are opened up 
to let you in.

about a six page essay from Kevan

The Freedom Of Being

Freedom means just what it says.

No words, no ideas, can bind it or bend it.

I wake this morning, too damned early.

My mind says try and sleep some more.