Satisfying

Love is king
But work is the thing
That gives it a place to grow
To broaden its stance below
And multiply its roots
And send up tiny shoots
The shoots grow from the base
Of an accepting, ready grace
Then from the spirits dew
Come the fruits that will feed you

No or Yes

"The mind lives in the no, it is a no-sayer; it's nourishment comes from saying no to each and every thing. The mind is basically atheistic, negative. There is nothing like a positive mind.

The heart is positive. Just as mind says no, the heart says yes. Of course, it is better to say yes than to say no, because one cannot really live by saying no. The more you say no, the more you become shrunken, closed. The more you say no, the less alive you are. People may think you are a great thinker, but you are shrinking and dying; slowly you are committing suicide.

If you say no to love, you are less than you were before; if you say no to beauty, you are less than you were before. And if you go on saying no to each and every thing, chunk by chunk you are disappearing. Ultimately a very empty life is left, meaningless, with no significance, with no joy, with no dance, with no dance, with no celebration.

That's what has happened to the modern mind. The modern man has said more nos than ever before. Hence the questions: what is the meaning of life? Why are we alive at all? Why go on living? We have said no to God, we have said no to the beyond, we have said no to all for which man has lived down the ages. We have proved to our hearts content that all the values man has lived for are worthless. But now we are in difficulty, in deep anguish. Life has become more and more impossible for us. We go on living only because we are cowards; otherwise we have destroyed all the reasons to live. We go on living because we cannot commit suicide. We are afraid of death, hence we go on living. We live out of fear, not out of love.

It is better to be positive, because the more positive you are the more you are moving towards the heart. The heart knows no negative language. The heart never asks "What is beauty?" It enjoys it, and in enjoying it, it knows what it is. It cannot define it, it cannot explain itself, because the experience is such that it is inexplicable, inexpressible. Language is not adequate, no symbols help. The heart knows what love is, but don't ask. The mind goes on asking but it cannot answer. The mind knows only questions and the heart knows only answers."

--Osho, Emotional Wellness

Re-Creation

I have begun the process of re-creating my holy texts, renewing my personal connection to the Source and waking up my inner child from her 26 year slumber. A little girl of three knows nothing of formal religion or social taboos. I want to comprehend again the intensity I see in those tiny eyes in the old photos. Before they were constricted by fear. I'm here to liberate myself like Moses and Jesus all over again. The most potent redemption is the one that arises from within, because it is the most authentic.

I've begun with a Chumash, a compilation of the five books of Moses. Every day I choose a word or phrase that speaks to me from the text. I choose that word-seed, and strip it of its surrounding connotations, its old wineskins. I plant the word-seed in a bed, a womb, of paint, where it can emanate it's presence freely, and inspire me to grow it into pure poetry, prayer and verse on the facing page.

I began this project about a week ago, and although this is a very personal and intimate process, I've decided to share it in hopes of encouraging more of the same. I think it's important that each of us take full responsibility for what's written in our holy texts. If you choose to keep them as they are, that is your prerogative. But I do not believe in justifying crimes against peace and acts of un-love, or the injustice of silencing another's perspective based on a book that you could re-write with your own two hands if you wanted to. It does not own you. You have the freedom to re-create it.

This is the first word-seed, and the word is "flower".




What does it take for a flower to bloom?
It takes a little room.

ekphrasis for the tiny purple buds

pretty maids all in a row
oh Mother, how softly your breath blows
the warm spring air
ripples thru my hair
my soul leans
to the bitter greens

I remember myself and a battle elf
deep in a dream - is it real as it seems?


mountain laurel full of grace
make my mind a sacred space


takes me back
to days at SAC
I walked to school
and broke some rules
just to see if I was free

a strange boy punk
with hair like a skunk
wrote me a rhyme
that halted time

He said he saw me in a field
with all the flowers she can yield
with my hair all down
and the sky my crown
now here I am
there again

sometimes I'm not
who I thought
I was at all
can I hear my soul call?
now is the thyme
to make more rhymes
till I'm deep in the core
with the iron ore
then I climb up the tree
that grows in me
she's my inner child
waited quite awhile
in halls of books
throwing hopeful looks
my way
as if to say
"let me feel the light of day"
I pushed her down
and reached for the crown,
the papers and the chains
the repetitive refrains

but down at the sea
of galillee
I washed my face, my hands and said
all that I thought I was is dead
branches that suck good energy
from the green and vital leaves
they're so small
but they grow tall
to establish me
faster than you can say "love is free"


nothing but the grace
of my Mother's face
can open in me the door to peace
now I see this is the real me
sharp as a knife and Nature's wife
a bumbling bee with pollen sweet
and a sting for your feet
to keep us all moving
and improving
we make more room
and soon enough we bloom