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Issue #1025 Saturday, March 30, 2002
Highlights Compiled, Edited, and Designed
by John Metzger
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Thich Nhat Hanh
The bell tolls at four in the morning.
I stand by the window,
barefoot on the cool floor.
The garden is still dark.
I wait for the mountains and rivers to reclaim their shapes.
There is no light in the deepest hours of the night.
Yet, I know you are there
in the depth of the night,
the immeasurable world of the mind.
You, the known, have been there
ever since the knower has been.
The dawn will come soon,
and you will see
that you and the rosy horizon
are within my two eyes.
It is for me that the horizon is rosy
and the sky blue.
Looking at your image in the clear stream,
you answer the question by your very presence.
Life is humming the song of the non-dual marvel.
I suddenly find myself smiling
in the presence of this immaculate night.
I know because I am here that you are there,
and your being has returned to show itself
in the wonder of tonight's smile.
In the quiet stream,
I swim gently.
The murmur of the water lulls my heart.
A wave serves as a pillow
I look up and see
a white cloud against the blue sky,
the sound of Autumn leaves,
the fragrance of hay-
each one a sign of eternity.
A bright star helps me find my way back to myself.
I know because you are there that I am here.
The stretching arm of cognition
in a lightning flash,
joining together a million eons of distance,
joining together birth and death,
joining together the known and the knower.
In the depth of the night,
as in the immeasurable realm of consciousness,
the garden of life and I
remain each other's objects.
The flower of being is singing the song of emptiness.
The night is still immaculate,
but sounds and images from you
have returned and fill the pure night.
I feel their presence.
By the window, with my bare feet on the cool floor,
I know I am here
for you to be.
Dr. David R. Hawkins, Power vs Force, revises his earlier (1994)
calibrations of the number of folks in the higher realms of consciousness,
and talks about his latest book. Requires Realplayer.
I know, we have transcended 'beliefs'.., but let your
Catholic mom discover she is actually a Quaker.
When the world shines forth,
it is simply me that is shining forth. 2.8
Dan Berkow on nonduality:
Whenever we discuss truth, our discussion
We are limited to that which can be questioned,
defined, described and expounded.
Pointing to That which is ultimately true is to point
beyond these limits, to That which is beyond question,
definition, description, or statement. In terms of
relationship, It is all relationship, yet beyond
relating. We don't relate to It, and It doesn't
relate Itself to us. When we drop all attempts to
have It by relating to It, Its truth is there as
the relatedness of all relationship. Unknowable,
it is our very knowing; unapproachable, it is our
There are many
ways to point, yet no pointer can be
That to which is pointed. Ultimately,
all pointers and pointing can be discarded.
Nothing needs to be added, removed,
stated, or questioned.
That which is ultimate is unattainable, yet
Donuts and Religion
The earliest evidence of the donut as an object of religious
significance is the great megalith of Stonehenge, near Salisbury,
England. Radiocarbon dating places the first activities at the site
at around 2800 BC. At this time the site consisted of little more
than a circular ditch with an internal bank, however it was quite
recognizably toroidal, or donut-shaped.
Jerry in Japan
Let Me Say This...
What appears as meandering, mystery worlds
among lighted landscapes
and bending hidden river bends,
is just a prelude view of the twisting
that God is going to do to your delicate soul-rag.
He wants to, has to wipe His tears away,
the weeping, wailing,
water falling from every heart,
and just your sweetly-scented soul will do.
It must be some kind of a,
some kind magnificent bendiction to be,
to be drenched with God's tears, to be
stained through and through
with His sparkling grief.
I think that the way we are embroidered,
how our souls are stitched in loveliness,
that's what the Friend looks for to dry the tears.
But the real wonder, the most exquiste secret ever,
is this: The intricate threading
and brilliant colors chosen,
they must always appear invisible to other's eyes.
Only God must be able to identify this embroidery.
Why is that you might wonder now. Do you?
The thing is this my darling,
if every eye could see the sublime
and incredibly breath-taking events
that mark your soul's journey,
they could not bear the Beauty yet,
they could not bear the stunning Radiance
that is your Love, that is Your Heart.
A thousand, thousand kindnesses,
and maybe more,
this is what is swirled into roses red,
the same amount
of compassionate kisses given,
this too is golden-threaded
upon your sweetest soul.
This world and all the lonely hearts,
thy still continue, oh so utterly sadly,
still the anguished weeping, weeping.
So, this my darling one, this is why, why,
the Beloved of all Hearts,
the giver of all tears,
the remover of all sorrows,
the infinite Merciful mercy bringer,
the Majestic Grace of All in All,
this is why your most, most, most
exquisitely beautiful Soul
is necessary to dry the tears
of this world,
this forgetful world
that still weeps,
that still sleeps.
my dearheart, do this -
reveal that particular thread,
that one beside the river.
The one that has the still-wet hand,
the still offered Grace,
and let the world see,
let everbody see your tapestry Soul.
It's more than enough Beauty,
fine enough to end the sorrow,
to staunch the world's tears.