The Thought Of My Heart

There in the thought of my heart

I am with you, loving you and making love with you.

I am painting your lips with my tongue as would a slender brush,

my lips stroke and carress yours, bringing out a tender blush,

our tongues give themselves fiercely softly to one another in heady flush -

all finely intense and concentrated -

there in the thought of my heart.

This has no pause but is now and eternal, promised and delivered both,

here in my heart is every freedom open to you,

roam where you like be as you like!

There is nowhere to go and there are no limits.

Holding this kiss, holding, holding you me in this kiss and this
embrace of mouths,

we needn't speak of all else we're proceeding to do

with these two bodies and hearts,

there in the thought of my heart - we've long since given it word

and it is in the spheres.

Lovers do not go away.  They make the Beloved taste so real
it makes atoms reel

in every detail of Form in this world and quite some others as well.

You are my Beloved, in the thought of my heart you are my Beloved.

Gazing in the Glance

Having gazed at the Sun unwavering,
braving the intensity and losing yourself
in its magnitude for longer stretches,

Something occurs which tastes of fearlessness,
most unassuming yet great in heat,
reminiscent of Moses, or of the Son of Man.

You burn through every personality encountered,
to the manifest Unmanifest,
catching a hint of Soul.

Rumi's catalyst was the Sun of Tabriz,
in the Glance which they shared
a Legacy was born.

Without an I, seeing occurs of itself,
where ego becomes a servant, Am is master:
this doesn't happen overnight or from reading a book.

But a most passionate desire for union helps,
as one-pointed as a breath between two lovers,
concentrating, refining, opening to grace.

The stature is majestic, the gait royal,
though you own much or nothing, no one owns you.
And while you walk the Earth, it turns in your orbit.

Sovereignty of Love

 
Lovers know neither heaven nor hell,

visit neither, seek nor avoid either

full of hope or fear.

Heaven is for egos that do good, hell is for egos that do evil.

They are only dreams of the ego, as is the ego.

The lover is not an ego, the lover is empty, effaced in the beloved,

gladly serving the actual living truth of this.

The lover reflects and embodies, channels and radiates

the Sovereignty of Love.

No ideology known to Human-kind, and no outer garment

of dress or style or appearance or exotic uniformity meant to distinguish,

can ever Be this.

The authority of love, the sovereignty and dominion of love:

concentrated and married to it internally,

manifesting it outwardly here, now and always,

establishing It, rather than an imperial church or a caliphate,

one inherits the earth.

And is good to it.

The lover only acts with lovingkindness

out of sheer love for and appreciation of the divine Being,

or of Being divine, or of life and of giving life.

There is no thought of reward for the lover,

as love is sovereign and no beggar after crumbs.

One's origin and one's destination are one and the same: light.

Sacred song is only called such and experienced so,

insofar as it introduces and projects, establishes into a space or realm

The Absolute Sovereignty of Love,

producing joy, anchored in spirit, in light, nourishing without limit

those living and departed who can receive it.

Even these words are not It.

Yet if they disturb or inspire one single mind,

or move or open one single heart . . .

it's a start.