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Jerry Katz
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The wind carves shapes into the beach sand

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#4187 - Thursday, March 10, 2011 - Editor: Gloria Lee

The Nonduality Highlights

The earth has music for those who listen.
~William Shakespeare


What the Dog Perhaps Hears

"If an inaudible whistle
blown between our lips
can send him home to us,
...then silence is perhaps
the sound of spiders breathing
and roots mining the earth;
it may be asparagus heaving,
headfirst, into the light
and the long brown sound
of cracked cups, when it happens.
We would like to ask the dog
if there is a continuous whir
because the child in the house
keeps growing, if the snake
really stretches full length
without a click and the sun
breaks through clouds without
a decibel of effort,
whether in autumn, when the trees
dry up their wells, there isn't a shudder
too high for us to hear.
What is it like up there
above the shut-off level
of our simple ears?
For us there was no birth cry,
the newborn bird is suddenly here,
the egg broken, the nest alive,
and we heard nothing when the world changed."
~ Lisel Mueller

Mazie Lane on Facebook

"Amos and Yosy" by Bob O'Hearn


Words that go beyond the pattern
do not come from the mouth.



It’s been many years

since I could find a problem.

I know better

than to take my dreams

to analysts and those whose lives

are rutted in consensus reality,

still arguing with what is.

I share my dreams now

with siddhas and sanyasins,

and the occasional dervish

though they’re harder to find,

and those whose illusions

have been joyously demolished

by God.

Most people seek

(and perhaps find a temporary)


through ‘getting what they want.’

Or, what they think they want.

I was raised in the opposite way:

to want what I get.

To truly savor it.

The equanimity

that stays

has little to do with getting

or for that matter, losing, anything.

And no, beloved friend,

you are not

“everything I wanted”

but you are the love letter

the most exquisitely beautiful

and imperfectly perfect love letter

sent to me by God.

I am drenched,

utterly drenched in bewilderment

and poetry,

gloriously unhinged

and loving this dance!

~Rashani Rea


We have fallen into the place where everything is music.


The Winter of Listening

No one but me by the fire,
my hands burning
red in the palms while
the night wind carries
everything away outside.

All this petty worry
while the great cloak
of the sky grows dark
and intense
round every living thing.

What is precious
inside us does not
care to be known
by the mind
in ways that diminish
its presence.

What we strive for
in perfection
is not what turns us
into the lit angel
we desire,

what disturbs
and then nourishes
has everything
we need.

What we hate
in ourselves
is what we cannot know
in ourselves but
what is true to the pattern
does not need
to be explained.

Inside everyone
is a great shout of joy
waiting to be born.

Even with the summer
so far off
I feel it grown in me
now and ready
to arrive in the world.

All those years
listening to those
who had
nothing to say.

All those years
how everything
has its own voice
to make
itself heard.

All those years
how easily
you can belong
to everything
simply by listening.

And the slow
of remembering
how everything
is born from
an opposite
and miraculous
Silence and winter
has led me to that

So let this winter
of listening
be enough
for the new life
I must call my own.

~ David Whyte ~

(The House of Belonging)

Web version:


Mark gave this link over the past weekend. I would like to remove the perhaps.

Home... (This is not a short video... but perhaps it's worth watching and yet, perhaps it's not....)

"I loved this movie "home", fantastic, well worth the 90 min...." from a reader, Bruce.

May I just add another affirmation. Find the time. The second half presents the current
situation and condition of our planet, the unforgettable images say it all. -Gloria

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