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 Illuminated Poetry, Quotations and Stories
 JoS -3- The Waterway Course
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zamolxes

Romania
76 Posts

Posted - Dec 16 2020 :  4:48:50 PM  Show Profile  Reply with Quote  Get a Link to this Message
As I sat in my bed as any other night, tasting wonderfully spicied letters from a well written book, a peculiar sensation arose within me, and if not for that, this one evening would have been like any other one, seemingly meaningless.

It was the novel Musashi, written by a japanese author, but since their names sound like pans falling to the ground is really hard to remember something. But its novel was something else, it told the story of Musashi Miyamoto, the strongest samurai of Japan, and his spiritual journey through the way of the sword. It may have been like any other novel if not for a peculiar scene.

His defeat under the hands of heaven, manifesting as water. As he tried countless days to cultivate food in a garden, he found that whenever it rained the small river that passed closed to the town would deviate and flood his garden. Frustrated by this, he tried many times to defeat the river only to lose time and time again.

Be it by shoveling another path or by moving huge rocks in the river's way, nothing seemed to convince the witful water, for it always had a way. His deep contemplation towards nature resounded deep within me, as if in the depths of my being a truth more clear than mere understandings was waiting for my discovery. Entranced by those sensations, I left everything to go and lie in my bed.

Little did I know I was playing with fire, and the fire with snake like eyes was playing with me too, hiding deep within the darkness of my room.

Water, flowing water, free... unfettered. Flowing, moving, alive..
Calm water, peacefully lying still, mirroring the sky. Tranquil.. empty...

A drop of water I thought, one free falling out of a waterfall, and in its playfulness diving back into its body. Merging with it. But with no uses. What was water? Whatever you do with it, it does whatever it feels with what you do. You can't even restrain it in your mind. Why is water so?

A river running down a valley I envisioned, flowing majestically hand in hand with nature, cool and refreshing arching its body efortlessly through the corners of land. A free flowing river, evading its obstacles like a snake, smashing through rocks like a bull. What is it still? I can't become water, but what about it? Can it be me?

And so I breathe, and in such breath I lost myself. I breath in, filling my lungs with air, I breath out, I relax. Breathe in, breathe out, and I surf on it. Breaths upon breaths, the undying sparkle shining on a drop of water illuminates the weeds in the garden of my mind. I breath in, and the branches deep within the forest of wisdom sway and dance on a gust of wind. I breathe out, and the drop merges with the river, and I with it. And as i merge and grow to become the river, a volcano erupts at my solar plexus, sending waves and waves of heat through my body. I feel each pore of my body opening up, some in struggle and some in agony breathing out the anguish of a lifetime in lack of air.

I breath in, the light shines through the heat, I breath out, the river flows, and in such freedom a door opens, or perhaps it is me opening. The vast scenery beyond all thought and matter shows itself, and under such majesty I can only surrender and prostate. Yet such vistas never before seen are so familiar. This is it I think, and I urge myself to go up there.

I breathe in, wishing for heaven to take me back, I breathe out and nudge the river to flow towards the ocean, and in such ferocity of emotion and energy I seem to wash away the mundane states of mind I never realised I had. The energy intesified, and the heat lit up my body transforming the experience into a discovery. The discovery of countless lifetimes, screaming and urging me to pursue this river.

I breathe in, and as I do, the intensity of the moment transforms itself into vision. And I find myself high up in the Himalayas, between walls and walls of white grandeuse. The wind blowing snow over the air, the air doing pirouhettes over the mountains, and the mountains pointing their peaks towards the sky.

I breathe out, and the river washes the shore, and permeates the earth with its unlimited intelligence. And at the foot of a mountain I arrive, and in front of me huge black wooden doors stand tall over me. Through intense devotion I manage to command them to open, and as they open such intensity of mine turns transcendental.

"Take me.." I pray, and in through the doors I float, and in through heaven I roam. Inside the mountain I see several figures, all sitting in circle as if waiting for me, yet their faces are blurred and their words conceiled. I once again immaturely urge the fire to erupt , but to no avail. Though they do not seem to speak, their silence managed to whisper.. "It is not time yet.." and out of the mountain I float, and out of heaven I fall.

This can't be.. I couldn't accept it.

And so in I breath, and out with the river, urging the heaven's doors to open once again, and yet only silence awaits me up there. Unending darkness. Perhaps this was it, and so defeated I sat. Still in the vast cosmos with no sight to behold. And as I sigh, I find the darkness echoing my emotion. And in its echoes, a white comet flashes besides me. Coming to once again blow some fire through me.

As I follow and approach this travelling star, the transcendental feeling washes again over me. Crying for the beyond, the comet turns and faces me. A previous star now becomes a head, and through waves and waves of energy, this head soon formes a face, at its top two round corns and at its bottom two sharp fangs. As if holding the entire underworld the face contorts and phases with countless undiscernable entities, some screaming, some laughing with madness.

And puff, the star shoots on in the distance, with me on its tail. And through waves and waves of fire I find myself back on my bed, soon cooling off. Amazed and yet perplexed. Many other times I tried again to breathe, and merge with the river of life, but nothing seemed to work. Soon days and weeks passed, and such incredible experience became lost in the passages of time. Little did I know that soon the time would come.

zamolxes

Romania
76 Posts

Posted - Feb 11 2021 :  10:05:23 AM  Show Profile  Reply with Quote  Get a Link to this Reply
Down in a hole

The inspiration seems to wave, moved by some unseen winds. Many times one of those grand an majestic feelings come into view only to suddenly hide behind my uncertainty. I usually feel as if I'm an ant being played with, crumbs fall from the sky only to disappear as I take my small hurriedly steps towards them.

Sometimes I wonder if things do change, children being flooded by happines for a yet to come gift only to be devastated by an unmet expectancy. I also think of my incoming breakdown since that's the only way a blind man would learn his lesson. Inspired but blinded. Funny how sometimes I'm an ocean in this drop of life and how other times I'm just another leaf blown by the wind, slowly withering into dust.

Same happens to most of people, they only feel alive at death's doors, having lived their lifes partially dead. From monday to friday, moving around in their little world, from their luxurious compounds, greeted by young maids filled with the same uncertainty, to their boring offices, being greeted by sly old foxes. Only to jump from a plane in their weekends to finally feel alive in those short minutes of silence. If I were them I would jump with no parachute, then I could feel as an eagle for the rest of my life.

I remember now those lame sayings we had as children, they went along the lines that you can drink molten lava, but only once. I'm not even sure if we even listened to each other, it was mostly a competition. Listening just to answer, just to have the final saying. Yet there we were, between our own eyelids blinding us we saw friends, we had fun, we slept well. I stll wonder if it would have been better to live asleep, as society brought us up, laughing in joy and weeping in silence, having bad days, having good ones too. Letting out our selfishness, or succumbing to instincts.

Yet here I am, nowhere really. It may have been destiny, or a simple set of coincidences which brought me on the so called road of enlightenment. I may have been lucky to have so easily fell towards the coldest and darkest hole the human experience can offer. Talking about coldest, it was the coming of winter, both literally and metaphorically. Falling into winter.
It all started in the fall, as in autumn, when I went about listening to Down in a hole, little did I know that the theme song of my outings would be a so clear message of the place I was getting into. Day after day I was floating as a cloud, getting fancy around my blindness, not that I had a better antourage. Lacking clarity my illusions got the better part of me, yet again, not having fallen so hard I may have kept floating at a low altitude for the rest of my life.

Slowly eating at my soul's feet was a growing shadow, the anxiety of escaping what made me what I was, mistaking the so clear sign to wake up, I took it as external annoyance. It slowly grew at a point where my life was starting to crumble and fall apart. The love was irritating, yet the passion moved my feet, when winter came, the warm and cozy place I had built inside my confusion started to fade, only to be left with no road before me. But ain't most people like that? We build our own rooms inside our heads, decorating them the way we find life to be, yet what remains when all gets shaken by the earthquake of our own demise are the plain walls of our well built prison. Still, where was the window? Isolated from life I went on the same lie. Not even today I have a clear view of those days, waking up in a daze and hiding behind books at school, only to meet again with the devils of my heart at night. Yet nowhere is no place to be, for I had yet to taste the ground. As if to keep me going, I clearly remember the painful death I survived.

It started off as any other day of my life at that point in time, only to end as the darkest night my soul had to experience. As if punishment for running away, I had become too slow, not even having time to look back, the shadow had already tasted the flavour of my heart. I was flooded by fear, powerless in the face of truth I could only shrink, yet the smaller I made myself to be, the bigger the fear, the regret, the pain, the lies. I couldn't run any more, yet there was still light inside the darkness. Having the face of the devil himsefl in front of me, the darkness itself, the only place left to go to was the light, only, I still had to die yet.

Now, at that moment I wasn't able to discern any of these experiences, for it happend in the fraction of a second, I even dare to say it was beyond time. It was in that day that I clearly saw there was more to life than expected. Although I must say, our expectations are not enough, there is no way our small and defined boundaries of mind cand hold something as vast and infinite as existence itself. Yet there I was, out of myself, and what I so dearly considered my life shattered, the only way that I can put it is that the idea I had of myself, that same idea who was so affected by the experience, completely shattered for a while, yet I was still there, seeing the whole of life with eyes closed.
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zamolxes

Romania
76 Posts

Posted - Feb 14 2021 :  4:47:36 PM  Show Profile  Reply with Quote  Get a Link to this Reply
Another day, another swirl of fog. Contemplating the strange happenings that never lack in leaving a mark at the outskirts of my being, I begin to wonder what kind of marvellous force would be able to shake the core of it. Always jumping from a day to the other, I realise that there's nowhere I'm getting to. And while even the falling of a leaf may be able to stir the fog of my inner cosmos, such deep contemplation towards one's meaning may very well allow one's inner stars to shine and take a breath.

Strangely enough, that inner space of eternal stillness, may in some cases erase my identity, and in some showcase its futility. And while some events allow several events to flourish, my senseless probing into its wonders leaves me with a cloudy perception. And it surely is as they say, that what one fears one never escapes, and so even after the blessings of the Snake from the East and the Divine Lighting of Inspiration I find myself unaware of their mark day after day.
And it may remain so until I stop finding my assurance in them, or after an entire starry sky looms over me. In such case, not even the pridest shadows would be able to trap such mighty radiance. And while the little snake was able to create a spring of light, and the lighting a valley of silence, the river of life may very well be in need of countless other blessings in its travels. And this river, I fear and I hope, will gather the most wonderful traits from the most marvellous of sceneries, and finally be able to merge with the calmest of oceans, able to mirror the grand and majestic sky.

*

In the middle of frustration is where I usually find myself, only after creating war in search of the divine do I see how foolish I am. And yet without this inner war, one lacks the means to cherish the peace that is imbued in every breath.

Such is the nature of a river, many times it may gracefully flow with vigor wherever the land goes, yet many other times in the face of adversity, this river water is powerful enough to pierce a hole even through the sturdiest of rocks, and create valleys out of hills. And such is the case, that in the many manifestations of nature I find my desires and obstacles.

In such a torrent of emotions, perhaps by a higher will, or by a weakening of the resistance, a hole is pierced towards the unkown, towards the unfamiliar home of the soul.

*

Once again, a sea of fog lies around me. With no legs to walk out of it I decide to wait, and yet an inner piece of knowledge arises with each inner action so as to mock myself, wait for what? Such questions are always welcomed, since it seems that they make the wheels turn.
Facing my foolishness, the fog itself, another piece of knowledge gets under the light of my consciousness, this time is the star of my heart, the power of surrender, which makes the fog start to vanish. Perhaps such opening strikes at the very cause of fog, ignorance.

And while the river runs free, I merge with it, and in such freedom there's again no doubt about it, I'm not a drop of water in it, I'm the entire river in each drop of water that's been splattered in every rock on the way. On each drop of water that by the intelligence of the Flow, decided to meet the earth and nourish life. Each drop that shaped itself to the thirst of birds and bugs, of animals and humans alike.

And in such freedom, the fog vanished only to let an entire universe of nothingness to come into view. The same familiar space in which I once was lost, and in which now I am found. In this course of events that I dare say is beyond time, the space above myself opens up, and while there is no sky in the soul space of my being, it now seems the dark clouds of ignorance have prostated themselves too towards the mysterious and divine source of creation.

In this majestic episode of good will, my identity frantically jumps from an experiencer of blessings towards their very source, and in the midst of natures my sense of self becomes imbued with the most magical of sensations. The embodiment of light, I merged myself with the essence of nature itself, with That that a river wouldn't flow without, with that which sustains the sustainable earth. And in the mystical inner world, a moon now hungs up in the sky, imbuing in my inner space gentleness itself. The caring and loving feeling a river has from nature. An innate trust towards all. And so it flows on. And I with it.

                                       *

Peculiar, the strange face of love. A love for the divine, or rather a love for all that manages to move my heart, a love for their source. It brings colors towards one's life, a sense of truth in one's toughts and joy in his endevours.
I sigh.. who may tell the wonder that will remain after I vanish for good.
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