Posts tagged mystic
Posts tagged mystic
Love is an underground river
thundering along the path
of least resistance
shaping an opening
ample enough to enter
the substratum of your Being
listening, you can hear
the moan of water
wearing down rock face
Ronnie Foster - Mystic Brew
“I have always loved fashion films. But I was incredibly surprised by the tone of this one. Actual beautiful words to accompany beautiful shots.” ~wiccaprincess
Excerpted from Makhan Lal Chaturvedi’s poem ” I weep”
Modified translation, courtesy Sri Yogrishi Sharmaji
Those who have reached their arms into emptiness are no longer concerned with lies and truth, with mind and soul,
or which side of the bed they rose from.
If you are still struggling to understand, you are not there.
You offer your soul to one who says, “Take it to the other side.”
You’re on neither side, yet
those who love you see you on one side or the other.
You say Illa, “only God,”
then your hungry eyes see you’re in
“nothing,” La. You’re an artist
who paints both with existence and non.
Shams could help you see who you are,
but remember, You are not your eyes.
“Why ask about behavior when you are soul-essence,
and a way of seeing into presence!
Plus you’re with us!
How could you worry?
You may as well free a few words from your vocabulary.
Why and how and impossible.
Open the mouth-cage and let those fly away.
We were all born by accident, but still this wandering caravan
will make camp in perfection.
Forget the nonsense categories of there and here,
starting point and destination.
For sixty years I have been forgetful,
but not for a second
has this flowing toward me slowed or stopped.
I deserve nothing. Today I recognize
that I am the guest the mystics talk about.
I play this living music for my host.
Everything today is for the host.
Lolly Jane Blue // Worms
You know where I come from—
Where the worms are
Where the roots are…
with many thanks to musicforwriters for this artist’s haunting audio.
[ added text via Worms Lyrics ]
A rose that isn’t the Beloved’s face is worthless;
A spring that is not made of wine is worthless too.
The fences around the fields and the breeze blowing in gardens
Without the Beloved’s tulip cheek are worth nothing and without grace.
What use are sugary lips and roses that look like God,
Without His kiss or smothering embrace?
The dance of the swaying cypress and the rapture of the rose,
Without the nightingale’s songs, are worthless.
O gardener, every picture that the hands of intellect have drawn
Is useless unless they have traced Your face.
So, if you are drinking wine or sitting in the garden with roses;
Instead of seeking the Beloved, then you are wasting time.
Hafiz, your life is nothing more than a tarnished old coin,
Traded again and again for others to deface.
Don’t you have something better you can do?
(a gift from orphic)
Sister Judy Mowatt
1 of the I-Threes ….. Bob’s “Three Little Birds” :) #MYSTIC
Introduction to the Path of the Masters of India (Sant Satgurus), Part One: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kcep2WC8N7Q
(revealed by theoneironauticmotel )
My favorite Christian mystic, Miss Julian Norwich. God bless.
“Harry Smith, painter, archivist, anthropologist, film-maker & hermetic alchemist, his last week
at Breslin Hotel Manhattan January 12, 1985, transforming milk into milk.” -Allen Ginsberg
[Photo by Allen Ginsberg]
© and courtesy Allen Ginsberg Trust and Fahey Klein Gallery, Los Angeles