A Glance to the Past

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(art by Cascadian Creations)

Today, we return to 14th century Kashmir, and we visit Lallashewari at her well. What do you think it smells like there, in the hot Sun of the warm, dry hot season. Sitting by the well, the dust not kicking up because everyone is too hot to move, save the urge to fill the water bucket and quench yourself from the inside out. Be there with her on this golden shining day, and wonder what is it that beats so strongly in her Heart that she can speak the words that heal your wounds or simply bless you with her smile. It Is Peace that makes her world go round, she is not even there, she walks in the Garden in the Creative Play between Lover and Beloved. Smell the Jasmine and Bloom where you are planted.

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And so here are some of her poems, which are, by far and away, some of my favorites.

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Enlightenment absorbs this Universe of Qualities,

When that merging occurs, there is nothing

but God. This is the only doctrine.

There is no word for it, no mind

to understand it with, no categories

of transcendence or non-transcendence,

no vow of silence, no mystical attitude.

There is No Shiva and No Shakti

in enlightenment, and if there is something

that remains, that whatever-it-is

is the only teaching.

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They arrive and others arrive,

and then they go, and the others go.

Day and night, a constant traffic.

Where do they come from?

Where do they go?

Does it mean anything?

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

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Your face is beautiful

but your loving is cold.

Your tongue is tired of saying

sacred words over and over,

and your fingers, you've worked them 

to the nub copying texts,

but the rage stored inside you

has found no way to leave.

~*~

Whatever your name, Shiva, Vishnu,

the genius who inspired Scherazade,

savior of the Jains, the pure Buddha,

lotus-born God, I am sick. The world

is my disease, and You are the cure,

You, you, you, you, you, you.

~*~

Be the Light

Be the Love

Be Yourself