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Eternity shimmers in the room among the bright solid furniture that is the furniture of Eternity the bookcases and lamps the bed I wake from and the sound of the silence here that is its child the swirling ocean of time washing us in its blessings in constant motion of cylinder within cylinder of intangible turning invisible to the touch in which we age minute by minute inwardly forward but motionless in Eternity impossible to calculate except in angelic terms whose bright silver dazzles the mind beyond its usual earthly limitations whose walls and doors and streets and skies are sweetly blasted apart by the dimensions of Eternity and we live in it unbeknownst to us else we'd faint at the pure nothingness we are and God's Magnificence always facing us beyond even Eternity's confines and paltry measurements to show us anything but His resplendent Face in absolutely everything that is in its instant of being
Sufi poems from the love-ocean, washing at the shores of this world and the next, with God willing a depth charge or two to find new love grottos, new heights in underwater drownings, new depths in aerial flights. Contradictions? As Walt Whitman said, "Do I contradict myself? Yes, I contradict myself! I contain multitudes." And if we rub the self to its tissue-thin reality, God's Light shines more thoroughly through.
This collection from 2013 continues the intended trajectory of a lifetime's work that celebrates and posits the direct perception that The Divine Reality faces us from everywhere and in literally every circumstance of each moment of our lives. In this, the world's soul envelope has been turned inside out, revealing itself in images of light. Rather than invoking metaphors for experience, my project has been to "move from the word as symbol toward the word as reality" (as W.C. Williams said about the poetry of Ezra Pound), words not standing for an already completed experience, physical or spiritual, but in the act of writing itself revealing the core, the poem's very details being in themselves the experience, between seen and unseen, with transitive imagination the active aesthetic practice, as much as Allah inspires and allows.
The sound of geese over the house and in the house the prayer on the Prophet The sound of geese over the house and in the house Allah loves you The mountains are full of light and their gigantic shadows are eloquent since they're leaning against the sky and out into space with their crags and outcrops No sound can scale in a dimension commensurate with the pure expanse of it The sound of geese over the house puts a dome of life above us and a sea of life below us and a world of life all around us and a shaft of living Light inside us
Poems of Sufi Devotional nature, infused with the lights of nature, and praising and loving Allah The God of nature, and of all, each thread of which vibrates with God's Love in nature and out of nature.
We're born in a relationship with theology. Nurtured in the womb by other than our means, born into the world at large, at very large, from our meditative seclusion, our khalwa, the Arabic for spiritual retreat (often practiced in a closet-like room just enough for a devotee to sit comfortably) we emerge into a theological world, willy-nilly. As soon as we take a breath of worldly oxygen we're in a tight relationship with the whole God-system, as believers or non-believers, until our last breath leaves us. So in the title, it's a Throne that is perpendicular, at an always angle, to all that is in our and all worlds, while still being "seated" (only "as it were") within it, and Allah "seated" upon it. And this is our present and ever-present reality, in all its manifestations. It's a way of seeing and a way of being, and everyone down to the minutest mouse, is in "theological" relation to it. Oh, that feather floating through the air, and that ant at the water drain! Yes, you there... you too!
"White noise" is "a random signal with a constant power spectral density," says Google. "Such a signal is heard as a hissing sound, resembling the 'sh' sound in 'ash'. In music and acoustics, the term 'white noise' may be used for any signal that has a similar hissing sound." After chemo and radiation my oncologist asked if I heard a hissing sound in my ears. I said no, having always thought of it as the Music of the Spheres. It's the background silence that is pure, whose purity is expressed as a "hissing sound." Not of snakes, but of bliss. Or the whoosh of the sacred perveyors of bliss. And in the Unseen Next World that's an inconceivable state, herein called "silvery." TAKE ONE STEP FORWARD / it all turns to light // But to pour from one bottle to another / step back // At just the right balance / it pours itself...
Solariad of Surazeus - Guidance of Solaria presents 114,920 lines of verse in 1,660 poems, lyrics, ballads, sonnets, dramatic monologues, eulogies, hymns, and epigrams written by Surazeus 2006 to 2011.
They say that when the ""stars are right"" he will return and usher in a new age and the Elder Gods will reign once again. H.P.L. drops a few hints that Cthulhu might not be returning during mankind's time on Earth. What could possibly stop him from awakening from his aeons old sleep? Or thwart his plans?