On this plane,

Form is taken

For reality,

Reality for form.

In God…

Press up against me

Offer us release

Everywhere You

Touch me, there

A boundary awaits—

Deliverance…

I live

Between dreams,

Knowing myself

In the soft

Of a feather,

The crunch

Of a drying

Leaf…

I care not

If I'm a thousand

Steps away

From stepping

Through this

Holy door -

My broken heart…

The ancients knew

A space that opens

Between us, to which

Like branches

Material laws bend…

On the edge

Of life and death

There’s something

Beyond both

That opens…

Last night
A dream
In the Himalayas.
A monk standing
Next to me…

Our sentience is the infinite luminosity of God. By sentience I mean our capacity to sense, perceive, or be aware of anything at all. When we don’t use this sentience for any one thing, meaning, we aren’t trying to direct it, or influence it in any way, but rather rest in its luminosity we are abiding in God.

The quality
Of attention
Precise, full
Unwavering

Your work has come to an end,
Your life has just begun…

“Think of direction not simply as the movement of attention or the active impulse towards something but rather as an expression of your deepest orientation.”

Each morning,
As I sit down to write
I act as if the fabric
Of reality could bend.

The gate-less gate
Where the finite
Meets the infinite,
Is the doorway
To the pure
Inexplicable Domain.

Waste a day with me
Waste two, waste three,
By going nowhere,
Maybe we could
Carve an opening…

True power doesn’t live anywhere where I can use control. Our true power lives in spirit.

It is silence that speaks, stillness that moves, spaciousness which embodies, darkness which is the light of seeing, and the unknown that could ever know.