What you feel is life, what you live is another story.
You are my OM,
My love, my beautiful sky.
My transcendent light, my harmless flower,
Mine which does not belong to me.
I fall into Your graces,
We are One in Your disguise,
To see such brightness, To feel such warmth
Is to be absorbed into Love’s sweet harmony.
Forget what I was, take all that I am,
Be still beside me and share in this Silence,
Feel my love and share me Yours,
As the glue that makes us whole.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
Friend, whisper to me that which you long to feel,
Allow us to forget what we think and see who we are,
And in the calming of those storms raving our hearts from without,
Let us see the beauty of what is from within.
Do not hesitate, for the time is at hand!
The Lord has come, can you feel Him inside you?
Silence your mind, allow your soul
And the Kingdom of All That Is will be seen.
In my death I have come to be in my Life,
And in my life have come to be in my death,
For only one of the four is real,
And only that which Is can be called “truth”.
Behold, the darkness has set upon us,
Yet through the sliver of my eyelids barely parted
A thousand suns have come alive in the midst of night,
Both Being so the other may be known.
I change my mind and I change the world,
Take this hand outstretched in Love and change the world with me,
We close our eyes and see for the very first time,
We enter the Silence in true harmony.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
I am but a slave to those kisses that will never come,
Wishing me away through some slot in the wall that has been created.
I do so wish for love unabridged by that which was,
For unkempt, free, unchained acts kept holy in the hearts of the players.
Free me! Allow me to be!
For I am but a slave to the freedom that shall never be free,
I seek that in you which is not yours to give
and long for nectar that you do not produce.
I am a fish held fast in a sea free of water,
I flop around as if dancing to the tune of Emptiness.
Pour that which will save me into my lungs,
As I seek to know how I got here in the first place.
Do so be my friend, my partner in this endless noise,
And walk with me into the Stillness,
Allow us to cast out those things that whisper so wrongly in our ears,
And listen to the only thing the speaks the truth of lovers eternal.
Silence.
©2010 Thomas P. Grasso All Rights Reserved ☮ ℓﻉﻻ٥ ツ
I have a purpose, a reason for Being that is so complete and so perfect that my soul’s agreement with God was to forget it before I was born. Such seems to be the price of being born that one should forget such perfection and completeness in exchange for the experience of being what the soul is not. It is the absolute perfection of this existence, that utter perfection can experience utter imperfection so that it can BE. When one remembers this purpose, the folly of what can be this “life” (what we call all we know) becomes clearly necessary so that we may know all that we are.
The purpose of this blog is not to preach, but to experience. I have been given a desire to write, to express what is inside of my Being in this way. Recently, it has made much less sense for me to hide this “light under a basket” for it was given me for a reason. What that reason is I have yet to discover, and what will be the result I see no sense in questioning or speculating about. It is what it is, and in understanding that I have no purpose here I find no pressure, just the flow of creativity when it comes and when there is the possibility to share.
To share does not mean with anyone else, to share means to take that which is within me and expose it to the light. If others find this, read this, and see value in this so be it, but it is not written for any purpose other than to exist in itself as it was meant to exist.
I welcome this experience with my heart wide open, with this soul’s embracing light loving the darkness that has allowed it to be experienced. I find love in my soul, peace in my heart, and the glorious excitement at was is to become of this moment.
©2009 Thomas P Grasso All Rights Reserved
You are but an old man now,
Seeking to define what time has done to you,
Finding that strength escapes you,
As did the youth you so eagerly took for granted.
You are but an old man now my friend,
I watch you struggle for that last glimpse of life,
To be with those you love,
With those for whom your loyalty was never-ending.
I am but an old man now,
Yet young was I when you first came to me,
How my struggle became your struggle,
And yet you sat by me regardless of who I was.
We are but old men now,
And as I watch you fade into memory,
I know that this place you have built without effort
Will be a part of me forever.
For who could know that a true best friend,
Could be found in one who has never spoken a word but has said so much,
But who has in this moment taught me
That anger should never replace the pain I knew I’d feel in your departure.
But now I will watch you until I can watch no longer,
And comfort you as you have comforted me,
And love you as you have loved me,
And know that the gift you give is in the tears I now shed.
I shed these tears for the two of us,
And for those who love us, who will sit with us without question,
For we are old men now my friend,
The end is near…we shall be comforted.
Like as if a pebble through still waters,
Awareness ripples through the story of my life,
Seeking to see beyond that which is the illusion of reflection,
Slowly defining that which is beneath the surface.
As though the seeker and not the sought,
The truth that ripples through the delusions of stillness,
To allow true stillness to be, to allow no distortions between
This and that, here and there, then and now.
That which is in the Deep has become the here and now,
That which was the surface slowing sinks into the Abyss,
To feel, to Be, is to be numb and to Be not,
To be there is to know what it is to be here.
To have is to realize what it is to have not,
To see is to know certain blindness, to be bad is to know what goodness is,
To seek is to know no search, to cry is to know pure bliss,
To hate is to know love and to lie is to know truth.
I am..
Not simply as some thing, but as all things.
I am…
Not simply as God but as my mind’s Creation.
I am…
Not as what I seek to be but as what you have made me.
You, the other, the same, my Creator as I am surely yours.
For what am I if not what I am in your mind,
And what are you if not what you are in my mind.
Good, bad, kind, mean, right, wrong,
What can it be if not me? For you cannot exist
If I do not exist, you cannot be if I do not make you so,
And I am just a figment of my imagination as you are yours, and we each other’s.
You are truth in all that you are because you are truth in all that you are not.
You are the bane of the existence to that which loves that you are.
You are to experience that which you were not, in order that you may finally be.
You are because you were not and because of that you will be.
Simply.
Alone I fall but the morrow comes,
And aye such tenderness escapes the lot of me,
I am lost or so it seems,
Beyond the capacity of this mind to see.
Once the sound of music pained,
The look of a trampled man never gave me pause,
And yet such burden borne on me,
Was this mind’s own rigid, frightful cause.
For hate, dislike, lost and found,
Are but visions of fantasy like flags unfurled,
It’s true nothing in this dream has changed,
Except how I, this mind, see this world.
Divine, I slip out to the shore,
Enticed by ocean’s lapping sound,
I hear the silence that gives me pause,
In this space I find such truth profound.
To be born today but forever alive,
Is to step anew where my feet once tread,
I swear I can feel the waves but tease my skin,
Yet when I look I can only see a sandy bed.
Felt I those waves as once alive,
But now have but sunken to the sea?
Perhaps they never where but in my mind,
That part of ocean somehow part of me.
Alive! I rush to breathe at last,
From Root to Heart, from Om to Crown,
This destiny that suffers not,
What is left of “me” I leave to drown.
Escaped I from the lie that was,
Onto the shore of truth’s own lapping wave,
Once what I want hath died what is can live,
I shall not miss those things that I have lave.
Let go! Let go! this somber soul,
Feel time slipping from your hands,
For that which is alive only but in your mind,
Shall wash away as Timeless life demands.
Such pity poor does Nature show
To those she must endure,
To be free alive beyond what minds contrive,
Is her destiny for sure.
These eyes can see so easily,
Through panes of weathered glass,
Nature’s plan to shake off this man,
Or have his ego shunned en masse.
Such tears have formed throughout the years,
Now come pouring from the sky,
And through this weathered window pane,
Comes the understanding why.
This box is sealed with mental locks,
She offers me the key,
With pain assumed by us insane,
We create all reality.
This box is why I can stay so dry,
And absent of her pain,
But through that door there is much more,
So I walk Into the Rain.
Through that door into the light, from the confines of darkness into the freedom from it I walk. Unsteadily, as if walking for the first time, I take my first step beyond what I know into the Rain. Why does such pure water feel so dirty? Why does the chill course through my body as if I am feeling life for the very first time? I stumble a bit, unsure of my balance as I venture outward, but somehow I realize that the more I seem to venture from the confines that held me, the more I seem to venture outward, the more I venture inward. This Rain, as it cascades down my now bare skin onto the Earth that is now part of me, is bringing me alive as if for the very first time.
We are but one,
One body, one soul, one part of Creation,
We are all part of the same Sea,
And in this existence we share,
We are all but teaspoons from this Sea,
And surely one day we will all return to Her.
Our spoons may look different,
The bowls may be larger or smaller,
The handles may be ornate or plain,
But it is not the spoon that matters,
For it is just a vessel, a distraction from the Sea.
I realize that as much as our egos seek to separate us from all that is, we are not separate from any of it. Although ego provides us with physical differences we are not different except in our perception of the physical. Although our minds offer us borders from which to divide ourselves, we are not different. As the mud runs through my toes I realize that somewhere someone is also allowing the mud to run through their toes. The same Earth, the same air, the same sky, the same Rain, the same emotion, all is the same but the vessel that carries the Sea. In the Sea we share a Oneness and the same purpose, and it is the purpose of ego to have us forget the Sea and to focus on the vessel that carries it. In this sense, the battle is not between “good” and “evil”, but between awareness and ego.
So, with arms outstretched and eyes focused on the sky, I walk into the Rain.
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