Secret Codes, and Holy Vision

comments 28
Poetry

What I told Hafiz
when I opened the bedroom door
and entered the main living area
after my daily five or so minutes
of high-intensity,
mid-morning meditation
on the illumined heart of being,
was that I was finally prepared
to commit myself
to crossing the Sea of Meaninglessness–
to enduring the winds of fate,
the firecracker heavens,
and whatever battering-about
goes on out there–
to gritting my teeth
at the sight of hungry kraken
and surrendering myself
to the celestial mercies
of whatever might come next,
and to reaching the far shore
where Love alone endures,
where I would land
with whatever scraps of myself were left,
washed clean by my travails,
never to look back again.

A beautiful, warm smile
spread across Hafiz’ face.

Then mine as well.

Though mine was more like
an uncertain, facial scrunch
of going along with whatever
unscripted events were suddenly
opening up the floor beneath me.

Then Hafiz told me
how much he loved it
when I spoke in one of my secret codes.
And that, yes–!
he would love to have
my help in the fields…
There were many
ripening figs to harvest…
And the light
had been so glorious recently…
Such a perfect place
to share with friends…

The light bulb in my mind’s eye
clinked all of a sudden,
sounding briefly like
a skirmish of watch springs,
then the filament popped apart,
cauterizing itself at either end
before fizzling into a
collapsing darkness.

You have to be careful
around these Love Gazers,
because sometimes
they just hear whatever
they want to hear.

Like when I stood there
marooned in my own living room,
smirking, and quite possibly snorting,
with bemused disbelief.
And Hafiz, that freakin’ Love Gazer,
just smiled broader and lit right up,
his eyes twinkling with delight,
as if I’d thrown in a new cherry picker
and a platoon of ag-school interns.

What world do you see, man…???
I muttered, putting my dishes in the sink.
Then I retired to my bedroom
to sneak in another power session
of heart-opening practices
before the harvest.

28 Comments

    • Yes… for now…
      We are internal foodies
      learning how to sustain ourselves,
      picking and choosing
      the thought flowers
      we wish to harvest
      and set by the sun’s light…

      Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, friend. I’m glad you honed in on that passage. I tinkered with it for quite a while, going over and over in my mind the sound and flash of a light bulb going out… I’ve found an interesting phenomenon in our kitchen. There are bulbs over a small island, and when the dimmer is down low, they make a high pitched sound the human ear can detect… I am fascinated by how electricity might become sound… It is amazing all around us really… So cleverly hidden in the obvious…

      Blessings
      Michael

      Like

  1. thank you, Michael – you return to me the memory of the way such a Love Gazer can see in me beyond what i’ve known was there – (you are quite the fig picker and a whole ag-gaggle too) – right now during such a spell of stillness for me that just may have been causing me to doubt any near journeys – Yet suddenly once again this room, this house, this block, this city, this coast, this continent, the world is a pulsing beat of love – syncopating out —->

    Liked by 1 person

    • You’ve hit upon the fundamental element here for me, Marga, and that is the way those with Love alive in them can see beyond what we’ve known, even of ourselves. Love sees us, for us, in those moments when our vision is clouded. Your closing sentence reminds me of that Tool song you posted about once, and the spiraling out… And also that we all live in a sort of Russian Doll ensemble of loving fields. Layers upon layers of being known…

      Wishing you a lovely Sunday!
      Michael

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Genie says

    “the firecracker heavens”, aha! yes, that’s it, I must have swam into those yesterday… and the day before too!

    Swimming for hours,
    Baptized by the pristine waters.
    Fire of eternity on my skin,
    Refreshed, made all the atoms spin!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yes! I love the line about spinning atoms… the part about fire of eternity on your skin, too… (the whole thing actually…) I think there are themes or images that carry through broadly across authors and times or something. Reading your line here, I remember writing this one, which bears a similar note… We’re spinning and swimming our way through the firecracker heavens for sure. A real love blitz… Except when we’re not, and then I don’t know what the hell we’re doing… Trying too hard at something…

      Practicing my backstroke,
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

    • I’m coming back to it again and again, Alison. Until it finally sinks in: every road comes back to the same point… We think it’s a maze or something. Actually, it’s just home around every corner…!

      Love
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Delightful! imagining ” reaching the far shore where Love alone endures….washed clean by my travails,never to look back again.” How will I manage work at my job tomorrow, in such a different seemingly different world, with the mood I’m in now? Can I incorporate moments of this without being too…bemused? I believe it is possible. You’ve given hints on how to do this. I believe I will be better for it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you JoAnne! I hope you had a good day on the job… I was back on the job myself after a few days off, and the movement back and forth across that subtle veil seems to be a good indicator of where my devotion lies… to peace? to something else? It was a good day and an easy transition, so maybe the hints are helping… Looking at the places we resist is always helpful I think… And giving and receiving hints… isn’t that what we’re all doing for one another here? 🙂 Let’s keep them flowing back and forth…

      Peace
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

      • It was a good day, overall. Yes, that’s what we’re doing, giving and receiving hints and encouragement. 🙂 Peace is always a worthy devotion. Peace.

        Liked by 1 person

        • Peace… It’s the anchor to which I return, when the world starts doing barrel rolls… 🙂

          And Love.

          Love
          Michael

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    • Ha! Yes… why not? One could just as easily ask, why!? 🙂

      Picked a lot of figs today. We’re thinking of nectarines next year. Sunsets the next. I like imagining an orchard of sunsets. I wouldn’t be so reluctant then, would I Hafiz!?

      What do you think a fig is!?

      These Love Gazers are incorrigible. Anyone ever tell you that? Stunningly incorrigible…

      Have a great week also, Ka!
      A Truckload of Marvelous Thoughts,
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

      • When you wrote “figs and nectarines” I immediately pictured them and thought of how pretty those colors look together… and here you were building the image of sunset for your next line. Your wordsmithing is stunning 🙂 I wish I could just grow a flower from my mouth and offer it through the keyboard to show you how great your wishes for all of us are…. Thank you!

        Liked by 2 people

  4. Very nice, I can’t put my finger on it, but there is something very intimate about this…a bit of the making of. Which is quite inspiring when I sense that the finished product is “de luxe”. Peace, Harlon

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for the generosity in this reading, Harlon. There’s definitely some attempts here to see my own madness through a gentle lens… It is good for me to remember as often as possible that I’m not take myself seriously…! It’s like some days the inner ordainer of needs gets all wound up and buys an entire travel package, and you just blow it off… meh–, you go on ahead… I’ll just sit this little soiree out…

      Figs are quite tasty as well.

      Closing the spaces between,
      Michael

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  5. I love figs and how they are mentioned too in ancient scrolls …thank you dear Michael for sending such light and peace thru your poetry so beautifully composed from such an open heart …..love , megxxx

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s interesting what you say here, about figs and ancient scrolls. Sometimes these images come… I would hardly know the fig from the newton… 🙂 But there are these images passed down in our mystical DNA… Thank you for resonating so deeply with what is offered here…

      Much Love
      Michael

      Like

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