This blog is posted for the Chi Center by
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
The Point
There is no arriving at your
destination
The point changes based on where you look
And what you ask of it
It has no preference for it is
Always before you
But should you look to the side
It will be there
It is almost nothing
And it is everything
Or of it everything might be born
It is you and more than you
You of course are more than you
You are one with all points of the universe
Your point of view is not the point of view
But informs it
The point informs you too
It is ever changing yet still
There are no seven steps to the point
But back and forth and up and down and round
And round and round will do
You might start or end there
Or anywhere to arrive at the beginning again
If it were otherwise the point would have
Already arrived at its destination
And the game would be over
No more dice to toss onto the plane
No longer any to cherish
For what they might foretell
No more jokers or Queens
No more point to pull another card and see
The brush of wind
Or breath of sea
It would always be the card you wanted
Before you dreamed the one you never knew.
by a me
destination
The point changes based on where you look
And what you ask of it
It has no preference for it is
Always before you
But should you look to the side
It will be there
It is almost nothing
And it is everything
Or of it everything might be born
It is you and more than you
You of course are more than you
You are one with all points of the universe
Your point of view is not the point of view
But informs it
The point informs you too
It is ever changing yet still
There are no seven steps to the point
But back and forth and up and down and round
And round and round will do
You might start or end there
Or anywhere to arrive at the beginning again
If it were otherwise the point would have
Already arrived at its destination
And the game would be over
No more dice to toss onto the plane
No longer any to cherish
For what they might foretell
No more jokers or Queens
No more point to pull another card and see
The brush of wind
Or breath of sea
It would always be the card you wanted
Before you dreamed the one you never knew.
by a me
Non Believer’s Miracle
You say you never step foot in a temple or church
Yet isn’t that a shell you are holding listening for the sea?
Isn’t it a temple you place hand to ear to heart?
And is the smile of recognition of the
Hollow sound of coral shell shining white
Not a miracle?
And when you watch the waves turn and pound back in
Noticing your heart swelling and breath deepening
This which has resonance within you
What do you call it?
ame
So Sweet
o sweet the mother's breath
on the newborn baby
held close to her breast
So wondrous the dream of life
unfolding from this moment
in myriad mysterious ways
So complete the life revealed
in this moment of such
sweet connection with eternity
So perfect the divine being
locking eyes with sweet
unconditional love flowing
So humbly honor the feminine
birthing nurturing power
universally breathing on us all
Peter Stickney
on the newborn baby
held close to her breast
So wondrous the dream of life
unfolding from this moment
in myriad mysterious ways
So complete the life revealed
in this moment of such
sweet connection with eternity
So perfect the divine being
locking eyes with sweet
unconditional love flowing
So humbly honor the feminine
birthing nurturing power
universally breathing on us all
Peter Stickney
Monday, July 4, 2011
Poetry: So Much Happiness
The Six Golden Keys
Practice, practice, practice.
There is a Chi Field
the Inner Smile
Trust
Service
Diligent Practice
Haola, haola, haola.
Following mind's intention to achieve heart's desire,
the Essence comes
with practice,
practice,
practice.
All is well.
So be it.
So it is.
Haola,
Denise M
Hun Yuan Ling Tong, Becoming the Bell
Hun Yuan Ling Tong, becoming the bell
We can hear it
peeling forth its clear song
lifting up out of the crystalline mist
Hun ... Yuan ... Ling ... Tong
A bell, reflecting
the brilliance of the light of its song,
its substance, its source.
Clear, strong vibrations
penetrating all frequencies.
calling forth integration
formless, flowing, form,
each surrendering into sweet sounds.
Hun, everything and nothing
the spacious potential
in which the bell hangs.
Yuan, the loop at the top of the bell
enabling truth
to sing
freely
the love song
between the formless and the form
Ling, the movement of the clapper
swinging in response to the loveliness of life
in the pure creation,
energy expressing
Tong, the vibrations of tone,
the reunion of clapper and bell
opening of sound
bringing forth potential
into notes of truth.
Hun Yuan Ling Tong
Calling forth the infinite potential as the song of our being
June 3, 2011
GUMA, (my grandmother name)Judy Tretheway
Haola (all is well, so be it!) Haola
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Poetry Allow
ALLOW
There is no controlling life.
Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado.
Dam a stream, and it will create a new channel.
Resist and the tide will sweep you off your feet.
Allow, and grace will carry you to higher ground.
The only safety lies in letting it all in –
the wild with the weak: fear, fantasies, failures and success.
When loss rips off the doors of the heart, or sadness veils your
vision with despair, practice
becomes simply bearing the truth.
In the choice to let go of your known way of being, the whole
world is revealed to your new eyes.
--Danna Faulds
submitted by Gina Thompson
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)