Going Under

Beautiful Empty Pages by Hafiz What kind of work Can I do in this world? Who would be kind enough To hire an old holy Bum, One with a great reputation For loving the charms Of the lawless And the wild artists and the lewd? Maybe I could become a poet. Maybe the Beloved Will…

You ARE a blessing to the Universe. Believe it.

Love and Light to you and yours. May Christ consciousness – the spirit of love and unity with everything in one pure, spiritual consciousness – be birthed in all hearts.

Our revels are now ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air, And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial…

breathless (your words leave me this way) crushing multi-layered longing too-good-to-be-true brilliant encapsulating all I feel in words I could never find filaments of love connecting in a measureless space between connectedness(ness) beauty enraptured I am breathless (oh yes)

This fog moved in suddenly this morning. I live very close to the sound and I’m on a bluff so the fog moves through us here. I can see billows of moisture swirling in the air backlit by the morning sun. This is all accompanied by the sound of a foghorn. It’s completely enchanting.