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Archive for the ‘Tao’ Category

 

I am Here to embrace all of It,
with empty hands and holy trembles.

The one flesh Buddha/Christ/Mother/Tao
has been wounded and torn,
caressed and loved throughout eons,
still it remains unnamed and untouched, without blemish.
As do you and i dear friends.

Here — Now — we are holding hands,
as we pass through incalculable birthings and deathings
to an awareness that nothing ever happened.

It has been said that ‘the line between
the profound and the profane is as thin as fishing line’,
But how can we know?
For the One that carries us swallowed the line,
as we bit the hook that dangles us
between and beyond time and space–
with its knowings that crumble to unknowing…

It is Here the head does bow,
as the heart gives thanks to Grace and her wild ways.
United in freedom and inexpressible Love,
every song a prayer to know Itself as This.

I am Here to embrace all of It…..

 

 

with love and honor

sparrow

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“We are already attached, absolutely attached,
fundamentally attached.
If you are willing to just dive into the attachment that is love, not the attachment that is control, you discover yourself.
The pain, the heartbreak of attachment is
actually the call home.
If you are willing to be completely slain in your attachment, wherever it may show up—with a person, with God, with nature, with your own self—just to let it have you, rather than to try have it and manipulate it, then you are free.”
Gangaji, Fallen Leaf Lake, 2011

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Everything I steal, I give away.
Once, in pines almost as tall as these,
same crescent moon sliding gently by,
I sat curled on my knees, smoking with a friend,
sipping tea, swapping Coyote tales and lies.

He said something to me
about words, that each is a name,
and that every name is God’s. I who have
no god sat in the vast emptiness silent
as I could be. A way that can be named

is not the way. Each word reflects
the Spirit which can’t be named. Each word
a gift, its value in exact proportion
to the spirit in which it is given.
Thus spoken, these words I give

by way of Lao Tzu’s old Chinese, stolen
by a humble thief twenty-five centuries later.
The Word is only evidence of the real:
in the Hopi tongue, there is no whale;
and, in American English, no Fourth World.

Sam Hamill

 

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