In some sense, all I write is poetic, whether poetry or prose. I enjoy not making sense. I am not trying to be consistent or say anything as it is; the writing hints at Something, whispering .... So, ...
Wow! Did you see? Not just look, see? The Moon was beautiful in the Sky last night. Now, in bright daylight, as luminous as in dark night, shining, clothed with the Sun. Do you see? She is a Lover. Do you know? She appears when you no longer look for Her. So lovely is She! in absence, in quiet, calling you to Herself. Do you hear? Relax your eyes, so the Moon may enter from inside your Heart. Can you do that? She can, Love does. Do you see?
* * *
I get up in the morning, I get dressed.
Who am I? Who when naked prior? The clothes? The body? The mind? The face in the mirror?
I go to sleep. I am garbed with solitude and quiet. I forget all things. Dreams - stories - arise and cease. And emptiness comes and goes - Being seems not to be.
Who am I? Am I the dreams? The dreamer? Characters in the dreams? Am I the body lying quietly, unconscious?
Grace clothes itself in the customs of times and cultures. The Word still becomes flesh - you, me.
Is Grace this or that? A Christian? A Jew? A Muslim? A Hindu? A Buddhist? Gay? Straight? Married? Single? Divorced? What color? Any color? No color? Can such things be said of Life?
They say I was born. You, too. Does Grace take birth? Die? Does Beauty come and go? Change? Arrive or depart, anywhere at anytime? Yes? No? Yes and No?
Who am I? Who am I that becomes all these things? Who am I, untouched by wakefulness or sleep?
Who shall I be when I have died? Shall I?
What is for is without an opposite. That alone is.
If neither existence nor nonexistence - I am not I, not you; not even I Am can be spoken - Our Beloved already, always is.
The taste of wine is not the Wine, and the bodies of Lovers is a passage for the River of passions, Love Itself loving - but Love belongs to no you, no I, no us, no anyone.
Someone could say, "I come out of myself to Love."
No need to say more - Grace subtracts until nothing is left - not even nothing - Oh! lovely, blissful, ecstatic Nothing ... Thank You! Thank You!
* * *
Do you see? If 'no,' close your eyes. If 'yes,' never open them again.
* * *
The late Zen Buddhist teacher Dainin Katagiri, in Each Moment is the Universe, says, "If you practice, sooner or later you can feel something. Finally you can touch something deep."
The Moon is something deep, really deep. So deep, known only with the Heart, not your Heart, my Heart - our Heart. In fact, only the Moon sees the Moon. You cannot see it, yet it can be seen everywhere. Now, is that not wonderful?!
*Use of photography is allowed accompanied by credit given to Brian K. Wilcox and title and place of photographs.
*Brian's book, An Ache for Union: Poems on Oneness with God through Love, can be ordered through major online booksellers or the publisher AuthorHouse.
