Girl’s story of love at first sight & the distortion of the dao

The third time she saw him, he was standing on the other side of an empty soccer field.

In the earliest morning hour, the moment before dawn,

The miraculous creation of color in a world of black and white transfixed her eyes.

Objects seemed to spring into existence out of nothingness.

He stood there with gaze fixed on the horizon,

Looking like the last member of an ancient race: lost in time and forgotten.

The scene took her,

And it seemed she awoke within a dream.

Standing under the fig tree, blended and hidden from view,

She wondered whom this human form held.

The first pangs of longing stole shallow inhalations inside her chest.

Each time she exhaled she discovered emptiness,

And trembled with fear.

She had heard that desire could lead to other things.

Like breathing, what was essential in life could not be held onto for more than a moment.

Her next inhalation brought into her all the potential

For passion, attachment and loss that a lifetime might offer.

But she knew none of what it meant,

Sensing it only as a slight pain in her side

That by a tragic error of fate she mistook for love.

Poignant Moment

The most poignant moment comes

Like an ice cold draft spilling down my back

It’s like waking up inside a dream

All these months curled up in pious repose

In celibacy, in solitude, in the quiet shell of grief

Because someone I love got lost in the weeds of addiction

My mouth is dry with fiery lust

This pure physical desire has no particular object to crave

It just happens with a shock of conscience

Inside the purifying practices of the holy month

Do I not cleave to God in this time?

Am I not supposed to further fall away from earthly pleasures?

How is this opposite phenomenon occurring?

Inside my mind and my body the aching chemistry

Wet with hormone, and rapid synaptic cracklings shake the libido

My sensual urges rise, awakened from their dormant reprieve

Ming (heavenly mandate)

I exist to know God and to become my true self through experience

To follow heavenly mandate

Which is simply this – surrender

And so far as I know the plan to do so is even more simple

Loss, longing and grief lead to humility and submission

And this the essence of right living

<<<<Nourishing Destiny: The inner tradition of Chinese Medicine, by L.S. Jarret>>>>

The subtle way becomes vast

There was a subtle way between us

That made me feel strong before the trouble came to test these virtues we call:

Love, compassion, forgiveness, honesty

And when you fell victim to your own lowering beast

My resolute faithfulness must have burnt your conscience

With the ache we know as guilt

There was no pain more great than to watch you suffer and to feel

The great chasm of powerlessness growing

But that chaos and uncertainty over losing you destroyed

Long kept beliefs in control, manipulation and solitude

The grief that came drove me to my knees

Humility and surrender became my righteousness

As your spirit leaked away in sickness, dying, falling away into the dark
tragedy of your addiction

My life force increased and my blessings overflowed the cup of my being

Allah has pushed us apart on our paths to discover Him

But I thank you and pray for your salvation in this lifetime

Grief becoming destiny

Destiny has a taste like a penny held on the tongue

The essence of metal brings forth true nature

A cosmic balance seeks itself

From within the curious chamber of human experience

All the longing and all the grief drowns my soul in sorrow

Cruel, spiteful, wretched and depraved

The bitterness between the lips and in each ragged breath

A slow poison drags me to the edge of the end

Without being fatal cuts away the pretty illusions

Emptiness filling with God

I set sail on the vaste ocean of consciousness!

The day the radio informed John Hughes, dead at 57 was the day I calculated my 28 years to be potential mid-life. Then came a crisis leading to the contemplation of suicide for the sake of starting from scratch. What if I just end it all here? I’ve had a good run after all and my 28 years of life have been full and rich. And if from a biological perspective I have only that amount of time left to me on earth, then why not, from a philosophical perspective, end the current experience and go back to zero?

What I mean to propose is this: can I end my life here, today, right now; and tomorrow awake still whole in form and body and embark on a completely new adventure? The benefits are numerous! Just think how I spent the first 13 years of my life just building up a physical form and basic understanding of language and existence. Well now see I have at least the complete shell to work out of. All that is needed is a radical destruction of consciousness in order to allow the process to begin again.

The possibilities for my new life are endless! I can do amazing things! I have the potential to take on the great adventure with fresh perspective and no notion of any defeatest mentality. My past failures are dead and burried and life begins anew. I wipe clean the slate and set sail on a vaste ocean of consciousness.

We Went for a Walk

We went for a walk up the bright summer hill

Just to feel the pull of muscle strong up against the pull

Of gravity strong down

Just to know our will in the act of walking

Solid and intent against the force of the Universe itself

Just to assert our own existence and to know that we are alive

Not dead and covered and rotting and subject

To forever and forget

We went walking up the hill toward the sun’s shining light

To know that submission in life is a choice

And so it is heartbreaking, humbling, beautiful and nearly impossible

My love went down under the frozen ground

My love went down under the frozen ground

And left me standing, staring up at the empty sky

Into that void there came a graphic understanding

Of all the other points of interest that existence might afford;

Learn quick the ways of pain’s deep and cutting edge

Working like a wire thread, slick through the muscle and bone;

Also anger, a bright white flash of rage blinding,

All other senses scatter;

Helplessness, pitiful desperation and impotency

The melancholy shudder brings the human form to its knees;

Crippling ache and longing, wrapping like nettle vines

Around the living corpse;

Then conquers all the quakes of fear – like a paralytic bite;

And to their mutual complicity

We give one word: Despair