Disappearing To All That Is Superfluous to Soul Sunrise/Afternoon December 13, 2014

Moments disappear before they arrive
Moments arrive before they disappear 

Life Simply Is
Love Simply Is
Just Is
ew

My song is the song of the river
Calling for the open seas,
Wandering, wandering,
I am Life.
I have no name,
I am as the fresh breeze of the mountains.
–J. Krishnamurti

(The spirit) 
needs the body's world,
instinct

and imagination
and the dark hug of time,
sweetness
and tangibility,

to be understood,
to be more than pure light
that burns
where no one is --
Mary Oliver

PHOENIX RISING < RISEN < RISING
OUROBOROS
∞
ew

For Source of and Full Sharings for above quotes....
See Read More at end of this post -Bottom Right

OES 5:36 a.m
5:43 AM
Friday, December 12, 2014

 

FULLY ALIVE < FULLY DEAD < FULLY ALIVE
LOVE’S OUROBOROUS
 

NEWBORNS NEED PURE LOVE TO THRIVE
PHYSICALLY OLD ONES NEED PURE LOVE TO THRIVE

NEVERBORN/NEVERDIE ONES ARE ALWAYS PURE LOVE
BE THAT 

Moments disappear before they arrive
Moments arrive before they disappear 


Life Simply Is
Love Simply Is
Just Is

 

∞

4:22 AM
Saturday, December 13, 2014
OES 436 a.m. 

WORDS/THOUGHTS/TIME CEASE TO EXIST
AS GODS
WHEN IN GRACE. 

ALL THAT IS SUPERFLUOUS TO SOUL
DISAPPEARS
WHEN IN GRACE.

 

EVEN WONDERING HOW TO BE IN GRACE
DISAPPEARS
WHEN IN GRACE.

 

∞

 

After Beach Sunrise
7:56 AM
Saturday, December 13, 2014
 

ALL THAT IS SUPERFLUOUS TO SOUL
HAS DISAPPEARED
ALLOWING THAT WHICH IS
NEEDFUL FOR LIBERATED SPIRIT…

…TO BE DANCED WITH
THE RECKLESS ABANDON OF GRACE
IN ALL DIMENSIONS.
 
∞
PHOENIX RISING < RISEN < RISING
OUROBOROS
∞
ew
 

I HAVE NO NAME

I have no name,
I am as the fresh breeze of the
mountains.
I have no shelter;
I am as the wandering waters.
I have no sanctuary, like the dark
gods;
Nor am I in the shadow of deep
temples. I have no sacred books;
Nor am I well-seasoned in
tradition.
I am not in the incense
Mounting on the high altars,
Nor in the pomp of ceremonies.
I am neither in the graven image,
Nor in the rich chant of a
melodious voice. I am not bound by theories,
Nor corrupted by beliefs.
I am not held in the bondage of
religions,
Nor in the pious agony of their
priests.
I am not entrapped by
philosophies,
Nor held in the power of their
sects. I am neither low nor high,
I am the worshipper and the
worshipped.
I am free.
My song is the song of the river
Calling for the open seas,
Wandering, wandering,
I am Life.
I have no name,
I am as the fresh breeze of the mountains.


–J. Krishnamurti
http://peacefullpresence.blogspot.com/2014/12/blog-post.html

METAPHOR

The spirit likes to dress up like this:
ten fingers,
ten toes,

shoulders, and all the rest
at night
in the black branches,
in the morning

in the blue branches
of the world.
It could float, of course,
but would rather

plumb rough matter.
Airy and shapeless thing,
it needs
the metaphor of the body,

lime and appetite,
the oceanic fluids;
it needs the body's world,
instinct

and imagination
and the dark hug of time,
sweetness
and tangibility,

to be understood,
to be more than pure light
that burns
where no one is --

so it enters us --
in the morning
shines from brute comfort
like a stitch of lightning;

and at night
lights up the deep and wondrous
drownings of the body
like a star.
–Mary Oliver
http://peacefullpresence.blogspot.com/2014/12/metaphor.html