monday life

O  the simplicity of good and real things

in between heartache and Monday-work
I lie down and let my attention wander inside this skin
to toes and fingers and ears and eyes, and everything in between

and lo, some vibrant joy makes itself known, right here
– I almost say that this joy I carry around all the time,
almost without knowing
but who does the carrying really, I wonder.

Deep deep down I know that Life is absolutely trustworthy, absolutely
– how could it be anything else?

The heartache is understood and embraced,
and I start my work with warmth, that whispers
about something like love, something profound.
I send blessings to all the other Monday-workers:
hear the whisper, life winks at us
with some of its countless eyes,
all the time, and sends us flying kisses,
like I send to you now

the world

Thanks to movie HOME for inspiration!

Mon Dieu
we are such pathological sinners
idiots and cowards
too immature for this power.
The world is on fire
and we turn our heads
or numb ourselves with addictives
because it’s too much.
Right, yes it is,
it goes under your skin
and you find yourself
being barely able to breathe
– –

but oh boy that you breathe!
And in the glow of the computer screen
you see your own eyelashes
and feel your breath
and it feels impossible
to exist, here, like this
while the world is on fire.

But the impossibility
has to be your koan
your transformation
your enlightenment.
Just don’t turn your head.
Don’t turn!
The world is on fire, burn with it
until you disappear
and become like fire yourself
transparent
pure
fearless.

And take care that you don’t believe
those who are numb,
that you don’t get lost
in the man-made structures
where it’s impossible to see clearly.

You have to be willing
to stand alone
and yet, cooperate
like never before.
How respectable are those who
didn’t escape the responsibility,
who work their asses off
with a spark in their eyes.
Join them, join the good work,
nothing’s gonna happen
without those who give their lives.

– And yet, “give” is a bit strange word
because they know, we know
that there’s nothing else to do.

night

How the cool, still air
of a summer night
can penetrate one’s skin
fill the lungs
and smell so sweet
and how one sees
the dance of fireflies
(some of them got stuck
in a spider’s web –
it looks like a carnival decoration!)

What a cool way to exist,
to live on a planet!
To hear a train,
to see the glow of sun that is
hiding only for a while,
to feel one’s body, so alive.

And so much on this planet is wrong
and yet, the beauty is
overwhelming.
How can we live decently
with a paradox like this?

normal size

What a strange day!
So disturbing at some moments,
and then –
quiet, obvious realization
of the illusory nature
of separate, special me.
Truly, there’s thinking
and all that
happening in consciousness
and that’s wonderful!
But to personalize it? Really?
What and odd thing to do!

Oh, let’s stop contracting
into this tiny, little me.
It’s much easier
to be the normal size:
spacious, limitless.

no choice

Is this what “bridging the gap” means?
I find myself coming to same conclusions
than on the clear moment of realization:
Namely, that bearing witness to Spirit
means an unimaginable burden,
an awesome responsibility
because you don’t want to stain the glory
with anything lesser, any selfishness.
When you start to speak about
that which is higher
you are bound forever.
You have no other choice than
to become THAT which you speak about
completely.

some unknown joy

In the abundance of nightly peace
there’s not much to say.
The cool night air
smells like something I have loved in the past
and also now it fills my heart
with some unknown joy.
And chills go through my body
and I’m home.
“Rest and be taken”,
I heard today – rest and be taken.

Yes.

devotion

In your immeasurable love
what can I do but
sit quietly
and breathe
and breathe
and breathe

Devotion is the key, I saw
but it seems like
I don’t need to try and hold it
rather it holds me
and takes me to places
I could have never imagined.

home

Beloved, Unknown
I’m finding my residence in you
– and realizing that I was always here.
And I see
that the same way I can return
home from any thought
I can also return from the thoughts of others
and respond from here,
from home.
Maybe they’d realize
that it’s their home as well.

no idea

I thought I knew
But today – I have no idea
I don’t know how to write a poem
May the silence be my praise.