only this

only this

i walked along the ocean shore
and suddenly i was no more
my self had simply ceased to be
and for a while there was no ‘me’.

and at that moment all was clear —
a Cheshire grin from ear to ear,
a sense of calm, remembering
that there’s no time, no one, no thing

no doubt, despair or anxious fear,
no question: this is always here!
and all is wonder, life full on,
the veil that was the self was gone.

but soon the self reclaimed this skin;
the glimpse had passed, i was back in
the dream of what seems real, and then
i sadly was my self again.

so now i sit upon the sand
and try to deal with what’s at hand;
i seek in vain to simply be
and let my senses cut through ‘me’ —

a light, a whisper, taste of rain
i long to lose my self again;
out in the wild i feel so near,
so still that ‘i’ might disappear

yet i remain, afflicted still,
without control or choice or will
i seek the perfect lover’s kiss —
to see that all there is, is this.

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4 Responses to only this

  1. Bill Watson says:

    Very nice indeed, Dave. Thank you for being you and sharing it around; wishing you a perfect lover’s kiss (one for me too)

  2. Dave Pollard says:

    Thanks Bill, and commenters who replied by email. The “perfect lover” is Tony Parsons’ metaphor for this — what is seen when the self falls away. S/he never leaves you, never asks anything of you, is everything you could ask, offers you everything, and is just patiently waiting for your self to leave so that this can all be seen.

  3. JPL says:

    What if instead of showing the picture of a serene and idyllic beach and water reflecting a warm sun you show the picture depicting a snapshot of one of worse atrocities we have experienced (I will let you pick one)? A profound bias still remains in the mental recreation that your musing about reality and non-duality constitutes …

  4. Dave Pollard says:

    You’re absolutely right JPL. When I have had glimpses of ‘this’, it has generally been in serene moments (though the glimpse has never been of a reality filled with bliss or free of pain or atrocity). Others, however, seem to have found it during what was for them ‘the long dark night of the soul’. There is no rational explanation, or rational defence, for this perception about what is truly real. And I have always prided my self on being rational and not in any way spiritual in my beliefs or inclined to uncritical or wishful thinking. Still, the perception remains, and grows. If that’s a bias, so be it. The alternative bias of my self, which has dominated my life, seems increasingly incredible.

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