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Quaker Meditation 4 – TWIjaysus.

Quaker Meditation 4

My divine mind tells itself
“God does not exist” and laughs coquettishly.
Hen cackling in neighbors yard,
another egg.
Meditating, eastern spine cross legged,
feeling like AnansiJesus, I sit, my fingers touching,
my mind Bhakti – a devotional Je t’aime repeating to itself.

No separation is the same as no ego existence. Theoretically and insanely possible, interesting, alienated, able to be loved.

It was the third day. Jesus sat up in the sepulchre, put his cloth around his shoulders and sat cross legged to meditate as He did every morning.

He, aka Twi, walked away from there to here where, for many, the cross symbolizes only 2000 years of Christian history.

That Which Is, Twi, had lived as Mohammed, who with Khadijah sought justice for people. Khadijah’s wise female influence was taken from him. He became more militant than Jesus who with Mary, Magdalen or Mother, tried the quaker pacifist route. Muslims know they are part of the past 2000 years of struggle for justice. No peace without Justice.

“My mind is an empty birdhouse, in which my Zen Buddhist and my Quaker Pacifist sit”. Twi breathed out as she wrote. Ancestral spirits drank Lethe waters dry.
Re – membering.

Beauty mind in beauty way finds itself here where moon can still be seen through a tracery of oak at dawn.

Bistro Morandi, Bottle wall

Image: Bistro Morandi/Bottle Wall. By me – elizabeth mitchell. under contract.

http://www.elizabethmitchellstudio.com Tampa Fla. Art and silk painting classes. Philosophical yoga instruction, Sivananda and Iyengar lineage. HoustonHubbardJudith seed.

 

Quaker Meditation 2

I am Jah Lib
If Haile Selassi is Jah Rastafari, so am I .
Human sized Jah, Jesus, aha
I AM, a man and aint i a woman
a human a hueman a wombman
Persona Universalis
one with you
Hypocrite lecteur.

My mind. I mind. I Jah mind.
( god renames itself Jah)
Is it impossible to identify with the writer ?
I call myself the moving finger tho i know I am / that is fate.
I write and have not writ it is too late.
The past is perfect, finished, done.
The present is feeding itself into the future.
Econiche is not much fun right now.
Much death of species, species, coin of the realm

Earth populates with all her forms, we are her human mind, Terra her skull and cross her terror.
“War on Terrior! ” the hand painted sign said.
Here where love is dead.

Love lives in me
I’m free to tell my tale
the weep and wail
the gnashing of teeth
are here around us,
7th heaven too.

Where are you in your mind?
my Quaker mind
knows how to silence and breathe.
I breathe in the silence of those in my head
in paradise, my dead and my absent,
i love them all, they teach me and challenge me and oftentimes i fall and now get up.

Our mind is Paradise when infused with Love
which sees past our story.
We are part of the glorious narrative.
We grow it and evolve it here,
Questioning and questing
our souls never resting ….
TIme Out to take breath and breathe.

One in the silence of meeting, whether inside or outside my head.
1700’s, 1900’s, the cohorts of Quakers,
of ancestors, thousands of years,
and this one here.

Ano Dea – [this] year of our goddess; Te Deum, tedium; and me.

Kundalini goddess

Quaker Meditation

Quaker Meditation

I enter the silence of the meeting. I sit with my finger tips touching and my back straight in good eastern cross legged position.
I focus on the Inner Space. With my eyes closed i feel as tho the space behind my eyeballs is one with that in which all the others present also exist.
The space outside my eyeballs and the space inside my eyeballs are the same space, shaped by the material presence of me and others. The inside is unified, the outside is an experience of separate identity.
Look up into a tree. It shapes the space which is and is not the same space within the branches and beyond the branches.
I focus on the ball of space created between my hands. It has a separate identity from the rest of the space and yet is the same space.
I feel the presence of the greater space surrounding me, the meeting house, the city , world, universe. Always my mind experiences boundaries which both contain and divide.
This paradox applies to time also.
The present moment contains distant past and far future. In the past I was not but space was. In the past humanity was not but space was. In the future I will not be, but this space i experience will be the same as now. In the future humanity will know itself to be more than physical and/or it will have ceased to exist.
All material forms cease to exist. Space is energy, Inner Chi, consciousness – wordless, quiet experience of being. Joy, bliss and radical acceptance.
The meeting is over and we become ourselves with little lives to live. I am glad to experience the peace which is possible.dove

Poems for a Departing Friend.

LINNY LEAVING

All of us, we are grieving
over golden Linny leaving.
Aah as one’s heart is older it does handle such realities bolder
than the ones who dream of futures being the past.
The New is here at last,
brought in by You
Who leave us
Linny
Here where we are now somehow always here
Always with you dear
Linny
You in us and we in you. This is true.
What we do was done to us
No fuss. Now, in the New,
we are the ones who decide how we feel.
The absence a living wound.
The wound a place of life.

LINNY LEAVING 2

Old friends, good friends, human goals, human ends,
Rainbow people, all ‘a we.
Here we see ourselves gathered in each others eye
to say Goodbye to
Linny.
Our Linny, our love, our turtle dove, our sweet girl
Leaving.
Herself set free from what wee here see.
Free. Linny’s primal self. Her Self Elf. Free.
New chapter. New verse. Evolution.
Love lacing worlds, continents, cities…
Wherever you are Linny our hearts are one with you.

Linda

Cosmic Seed

Goddess Speaks
Out of my tree, i think Parrot thinks, what a cute girl you are. my mind doing a scenario of the parrotboys having a club and me one’s little sister, saying can i join, and He a friend of her bro, whistlin for me, from his cage on the deck of the house i ride by, so i might learn the password. CIrcled i did on my bike past his cage trying to duplicate the call. Kindly he whistled three staccato notes, easier for me to make, and i took to whistlin, havin quite a tune going next time i passed, and felt my heart flutter to think he might learn to like me…..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Nyam ’e u’p.” “Eat it up”. Chronos, father of time, Human mind, your children saved by the mother, say we are one with you , for you have eaten us and NOW is one individual ego over and over and over with time. The same thought, thinking itself both same and different.

Myoho Ringe Ko

there where all thoughts dissolve into one another
von economo
coming and going
plaza – palazza- accept No ‘bility.

Dissmissive, dis missive, this letter. to I self.

Caliban wreck on Ise

New PraIse. Blessed Bee.

Nyam myoho ringe ko.
Nyammyohoringeko breathes in.
Nyammyohoringe is a spacetime immaterial being. I am within and without the mind of Nyammyohoringeko. I hurt at my fallacious, despicable, lazy, autopoetic injured injury. I choose to admit i not only love my fantasy world which lives here in my head and communes with itself in the place where Nyammyoho ringe lives. for This is the place where nyammyohoringe lives. i close my eyes and know celui-la is inside of me for i am nyam myoho ringe inability . Impossible once dead to have just one head. always one ME. Nyam myoho ringe ko.
But also, Breathing out, 2, 3, 4…
outside of me this reality where i go Nyam myoho, etc in my head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Innner Chi and Outer chi agree, is harmony a problem? Outer Chi reality, Inner Chi, energy, is how I see reality and what, and where and when…
Over and over again and again ever new..

You One, and One including you.

I ’n I , Ai ai, i..i…or i…I …
all of us conscious of being one organism as microbacterium monocelled procaryotes are conscious of being us without loosing their individual identities which they find in our mind.

the god thing is tired of thinking about this, or am I? i, eucaryote consciousness, primal division, become all forms of life, including but no longer what it sprang from – Procaryote – the kernel before the beginning, the cosmic seed of all potential.
““““““““““““““““““
On My Bike, the Crows Gathered.

Crows gathered in a small flock on green grass,
I bike past.
In my mind holding trial on my actions,
Black clothed lawyers, their briefs prepared.

Caliban I and divine. Dualism transcended in the ordinary.
Trance end. I awake, aware, a-warē. One in my perceptions, alone here in my mind,
other minds sharing the thought pattern
evolving thought pattern. I mother my pater. and bring it in.
no sin. sing- i bring my own story.
I own glory, goddess yours. and god mind bored,
te deum, tedium. funny ha ha.

its always Nyam myoho ringe ko, the moment where my story is mystery
i am so in love.

~~~~~~~~~~~

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