I tell those around me
that if you turn away from the core,
your soul, you will fall into an unliving stupor.
The great crocodile comes and crushes your ship.
Eyes go one way, ears another; your intelligence
skews beyond reason. This disaster
can visit anyone.
When your ability
to choose comes back, your identity
will strengthen; ear and eye will realign;
and you can again be a friend,
a lover, a devotee.
Love comes with a knife, not some shy question,
and not with fears for its reputation.
I say these things disinterestedly.
Accept them in kind.
Love is a madman,
working his wild schemes,
tearing off his clothes, running through the mountains,
drinking poison, and now quietly choosing annihilation.
A tiny spider tries to wrap an enormous wasp.
Think of the spiderweb
woven across the cave where Muhammad slept.
There are love stories,
and there is obliteration into love.
You have been walking the ocean’s edge,
holding up your robes to keep them dry.
You must dive naked under and deeper under,
a thousand times deeper. Love flows down.
The ground submits to the sky and suffers what comes.
Tell me, is the earth worse for giving in like that?
Do not put blankets over the drum.
Open completely.
Let your spirit listen
to the green dome’s passionate murmur.
Let the cords of your robe be untied.
Shiver in this new love beyond all above and below.
The sun rises, but which way does the night go?
I have no more words.
Let the soul speak with the silent articulation of a face.
…
Someone who does not run
toward the allure of love walks
a road where nothing lives.
But this dove here senses
the love hawk floating above,
and waits, and will not be driven
or scared to safety.
this whole universe is the Beloved
Soul guides and prophets
have an innate innocence, but they are
subject to the same consequences as everyone.
If a donkey veers off-course, he will be hit with a stick.
If you do wrong, you will be punished. Abu Bakr said
that steadiness is the central virtue. From the
mind’s stability comes right action
which in turn balances the
intelligence.
They asked me why
prophets were given hardship.
I said it helps to have clear indications.
And I added silently to myself, Be more
humble like someone help captive.
Bow to the one who
can free you.
A hand
shifts our birdcages around.
Some are brought closer. Some move
apart. Do not try to reason it out.
Be conscious of who draws
you and who
not.
This world
is an open sky and also a dustbin,
giving life to some and death to others;
the outcomes are not controlled
by this world.
Press
your finger into the world
and put it to your nose. You may smell
sweetness, or you may smell dung.
Discernment is possible in
these matters.
True hearts
stay awake if love is possible. The
others have no need for beauty, nor hope of
it. If you are holding gold in your hand,
don’t imagine ways to turn it
into mud.
☯️
The Old Fool wears
second-hand clothes and fills his belly
with tasteless food, mends holes to make a
cover against the cold, and thus the myriad affairs
of life, according to what comes, are done. Scolded, the
Old Fool merely says, “Fine.” Struck, the Old Fool falls
down to sleep. “Spit on my face, I just let it dry;
I save strength and energy and give you no
affliction.” Paramita is his style; he
gains the jewel within.
Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch
🪷
Forget the body.
Let go of sensations
and obsessions and objects.
Do non-doing to the point that thoughts
cease to arise. Releasing mental constructs and
emotional entanglements, you’ll begin
to flow as a sage. Then let go
of that notion on top
of everything
else.
