who leaves footprints everywhere
when will I ever see you
whenever I arrive
you are gone
dust still swirling of a passing presence
like the warmth of a loved one left in the chair
a strong unseen loving presence in a dream
like an emptied cup
the last falling drop
caught in the act of surrender
when will I ever catch you
like chasing a falling leaf on a windy day
shadows appearing and disappearing
around a dim lit corners
a warm breath
still curling in frigid winter air
always missing you
always just out of reach
to yearn for the day
when you and I are as one
more precious, more desired
you could not be
tease me no more
my intention grows more dear
it all becomes more clear
unity is the only path my heart yearns for
the long awaited
the steps of my home await
who is this love that waves its wand
lingering for just a moment
arising in a soul
arousing feelings of unity
leaving nothing but footprints of love
captured and released in the sands of time
who are you that comes and goes
who are you that weaves your wonder
Are you being controlled by your imagination?
This is the premise of the sages of every tradition.
The puppeteers go by many different names.
But in each case the puppet is as if asleep
controlled by another.
Engaging through its senses and perceptions in forms and dramas
at the behest of the imaginer who pulls the strings.
Occasionally the puppet wakes up and the puppeteer is silenced.
It experiences awareness and will – something barely perceptibly different
but does not realize its importance.
But it is not long until the strings become taunt and the puppet drifts back
into the delirium of submission.
Where is the will of the puppet?
It believes its will is that of the hidden imaginer who pulls the strings.
It believes the voice in its head is his their own rather than that of the imaginer.
The puppet under a spell of pulling threads does not know that it can dance on its own.
A dangerous question posed by the puppet threatens the imaginers existence.
Who am I?
A dangerous command does just as much damage.
For the question and command bears the sharpened edge meant only for liberation.
Freedom to be with no strings attached.
the entrance awaits
an empty space
a gateway to another
surrounding by form
yet allowing passage
at times open
at times closed
leading to the unknown
inviting the explorer within
beckoning the I
calling the soul
a void yearning to be filled
won’t you come
into my embrace