Vahana Who

Looking out the picture window, 

I thought I saw an orange owl. 

It was mid-November, leaves 

already fallen. An optical 

illusion, it was not. It flew 

away as fast as I could tell 

whether it was an owl or something 

other—it wasn't something other. 

Whatever we believe the world 

to be, it is. That dazzling vision 

is just as real as you or me 

and flies upon a great intent. 

Here it is! It never went.

fermenting light

to know the meaning of oneself—

one needs to know what that self is—

and that process of discovery of what one is—

is the meaning of oneself

one is that unknowable subjective—

that to know itself divides itself—

identifying with a single object—

perceiving there’s no other but self

that universe between identity and perception is—

the fermentation that identity defines as suffering—

and perception sees as its instructions

there's no describing the indescribable—

the unclouded expression of the absolute is light—

the qualities of light are its space of awareness and its focus of unconditional love—

thus a definition for space-time is affectionate awareness—

and the full expression of the indescribable absolute is the space-time of affectionate awareness—

and the expressed insight of the absolute is 'i am that'—

pseutra suite 6 - essential division

i 

four gods am i 

from a whisper to a dream 

the world has created an identity out of nothing—and it doesn’t want reminders that it did so 

i divide myself in the intent to see myself 

the world has created an identity out of nothing—and it would rather fight about the details of identity than just be 

intent trumps division—for division lies within intent 

i divide myself in the intent to see myself—but identifying with an aspect of division temporarily blinds myself

ii

and the howl of self-realizing intent

self howls a primal howl in its atomic urge to howl communion with itself across the howling desert silence

who howled on its knees in the collective subconscious and was dragged off the roof waving oceanic and sutra

iii

from howl to a lullaby

the expression of self-awareness is love

intent, from that, unknown, being comes to mind in self-awareness

the joyous and enlightening—evolutionary—intent of the universe—is that unknowable self—becoming aware of being—oneself right now right here

may you stay forever unknown

iv

misunderstanding the necessity of division in knowing the unknown, one denies that part of itself

denial of this fourth god of division leads to active annihilation or passive nihilism

not alone but all one

love! not war nor apathy.

v

you're the truth but i can't tell you that

i don't pretend to know the truth—i am the truth

one doesn't know nothing until it knows two

vii

one can say thought is a process—within that of realizational intent—caught in an infinite loop—of mistaken identity malfunctioning

or one can say thought is a process—within that of realizational intent—requiring many loops to re-clarify its nature—there’s no malfunction

viii

there's no malfunctioning, only functioning

either you die before you die or you die when you die. either way, you're always unborn.

to learn to walk the high wire, you'll want a ladder and a net

the importance of being earnest; the importance of having faith.


ix

not any thing in particular but everything in general

sound accentuates the silence

put your mouth where your nothing is

the are no experts in new experience

the past is just as important as any kind of dream interpretation

love the two you are

x

the realizational process thru its mind creates an other—for knowing the other—is knowing one’s self——and another word for knowing is loving

it appears a messy process to that which identifies with the divided—the unknowable dividing itself in order to know itself

quantum probabilty is the result as consciousness delves so deeply into the 'mechanics' of consciousness, feedback happens.

the absolute pure subjective intent to know itself is instantaneous—it’s the mind within the cosmic process of that intent which makes time

universal consciousness, aka the collective unconscious, knows and shares all experience instantaneously—this is karma

in so many years, 'free will' be remembered as that quaint medieval belief before the great surrendering

faith in the unknown is just faith in one's self

just think it through to the jumping-off point and then love!

Ode to a Scene in Gravity

in emptiness, one howls. 

one howls to find another version of your self within another. 

in emptiness, one listens for another howl. 

across the desert void, one howls 

and then another howls. 

howling is the sound of silence. 

howling is intent to hear the sound of silence. 

howling is the poem and 

howling is the eye. 

howling is coyote in the middle of its maya. 

howling is the mesa, 

howling is the beauty. 

howl i-am to howl i-am 

the self-same howl of universal one i-am. 

this universe is one vast howl intending self-awareness 

and within that howling revelation is 

an unconditioned lullaby of waking. 

The Dimming of Our Golden Complex

The bottom line is light. Our evolution

whose art is all the universe is in

the business of enlightening intent.

The management forgets that data though.

Security becomes the number one

priority. Assembly lines are down—

but the building is protected by

the best insurance money buys. And meanwhile,

Research and Development is digging

for their treasures in a thing as far

as they can dig, until they see they’re digging

in their self, except they never realize

that’s their self—they think that that's a thing.

That's the funny thing about fool’s god.

I Went to the Woods Because

Every element in the woods 

is responding to the light. 

Spontaneity is the only design. 

Branches grow to catch the rays 

appearing to have traveled since 

another branch grew in the way. 

It’s all about the love of leaves. 

Holy photosynthesis, 

have mercy on my eyes which long 

to look upon the artlessness 

of indigenous creation in 

this current draft of shade and sky. 

There’s nothing us trees don’t know. 

This is how awareness moves 

unattached to lines of thought. 

It’s why we go to the woods.

Sam and Sara's Original Horror Show

When love mistook it was the mind, 

all kinds of hell broke out, you see. 

Well, love, it got real lost in all 

loose change and counterfeit three dollar bills 

and, well, I needn’t have to tell 

you it’s a god-damned sin, my friend, 

a love-forsaken bloody shame. 

It’s like some crosscut saw becomes 

an eye and all the sights turned out 

divided. I’m not talking long 

division but the slow and violent 

sort. It makes you sick to think 

of it. Like everything was either 

this or that and if you wasn’t 

on the side it occupied, 

well you was on the other side, 

and please believe me, that’s no scenic 

point of view to be. In fact, 

it’s all-out war. And not the worldly 

only, small potatoes too, 

just people being people, taking 

everything so personal. 

It’s quite the horror, don’t you think? 

all is self-inquiry already pseutra

seven billion selves suffering to know oneself

in seven billion welcome different loving ways,

all shimmering facets of the one diamond way.

nothing is ever wrong because

every apparent self is intending toward thatself

by following the love of oneself

in the best way imaginable.

the best way imaginable isn't

'the ends justify the means' or vice versa

but the hidden realization

the means are the ends *and* vice versa.

once seeing

'for I to know anything, I must first know this I,'

then any meaning of the universe is obviously

intent to know That, I.

Swan Song

At the wild mouth of the Merrimack, 

I pivot north to rove the shore. 

My Atlantic is quite pacific today; 

I feel my lake-like waves advancing 

like the white caps on a pond 

that seems like adolescent yesterday 

although it’s fifty years in memory now.

I didn’t know I was the lake back then,

and when I dived into the water

from the Dubois diving board,

I was really diving in myself.

This later insight arrived in meditation.

Earlier this morning I saw a swan upriver

floating on the slow outgoing tide.

I felt its graceful curve of neck in mine

as I turned to watch it pass, a brilliant

arc of white within the silvery mist.

Our silence watches all of this and knows

that none of this is what I am;

space-time is a single dream with infinite

dimensions in unfathomable intent.

Listen, the swan is going out to sea.

the heart of fall

leaves fall. 

fall is transformation. 

transformation is the time it takes to blink. 

blink is that great unknown i am which mind attempts to freeze in space and time. 

time is an interval between those transformations which occur in cycles like the sunrise or full moon.

moon is pointing to a wave.

wave is emptiness.

emptiness is wave.