Thunder and Lightning

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Raining with so much force that I was doubtful at times that the roof going to come down with it. It's bringing enough water to exhaust my little lawn - that it can not soak up no more, creating mini flooding. The flashings in the nights sky, near and far brings my curious eyes to attention - but the thunders that follow, specially the near sometimes send the curiosity hiding. The energy involves in all this is tremendously overwhelming, that one could notice that thunder is exploding in him/her. Lightning is flashing at the centre of your heart with all it's force. At least for an instance, before you go screaming with terror, you may feel that your being is absorbing it all with such a joy - to be at the centre of it all.

After Note:
You may feel that without the words in italics above, or such expressions, emotions or notions, you may feel that your being is absorbing this all with such a joy, such a joy to be the centre of it all.

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The Escapist - Song by The Streets

All these walls were never really there,
Nor the ceiling or the chair.
I’m eking weeks of peace at the beach
I see the breezes weave the trees,
These walls, you’ll find, are yours and mine
Defined not by them, I
I’m in times that lie behind my eyelids,
The sunset still the rising silence,

(Chorus)
I’ll not feel no fear
Cos' I‘m not really here
I’m nowhere near here

There’s no rain on roof that grates and beats me
My favourite tree breaking light to pieces
Sprinkling, sharded light on me
Throw a stone as hard as you can
And hearing with hand not here at land
Nothing taxi, dusting sand
My window world spins and twirls,
The walls then fall, I recall the sort
White clouds white wash faded spotless
The weighty shadows, ranges of rocks
The cold is all illusion thought up
Stroll on the shore, snooze and explore
All possibilities in each new morning,
‘til satisfied reaching out, yawning
Fish in a big dish, some rice and spice,
Salt over shoulder, never salted so tight
The truth I have told was silence sometimes
But who’s soul does not hide any crimes
Wrapped in walls, encircled by work
The walls fall - the story occurs
No barrier, no boundary or ‘low us ID’s
The freedom to stay off straight
Be fiend or friend, cause no harm but charm - the peaceful end

(Chorus x2)

Pale, ancient woods, strew white sandy bays
This ugly room pales away today
I’m swimming in the ocean
I sink slow motion
Fingers, toes, floating
Every year ‘til yesterday
I see the eternal setting sea
I compare all this to me,
It’s all fleeting momentary me
I blink my eyes, this is reminding me
Life flies in the blink of an eye
The old die for reasons, new tides for seasons
New life born is like teasing
All these walls were really never there
Nor the ceiling or the chair
I’m eking weeks of peace at the beach
I see the breezes weave the trees
I am not here at all,
You are dearly fooled,
I see bristling trees, the shush at the sea
Mischievous
Fluttering seagulls
No.
I’m not trapped in a box, so I am glancing at rocks
I’m dancing off docks
Since this stance began
That’s where I am

(Chorus x2)

So done.


Lyrics by: Michael Geoffrey

Itchy Everywhere!!

It is itching, sharp, almost painful, yet glorious to itch on the first instant, annoying there after... Itchy Everywhere!!

No clouds in sight to prevent that perfectly right angled Sun from spreading its burning rays over Sri Lanka, setting its hot dry season to full swing. Current weather may be the leading cause of this itchy problem, but needless to say the Cement dust swirling around the currently renovating house of ours may be adding to the quality of this itchy sensation.

Singing from the Soul...

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“In the deepest within — the most infinite beyond — in ever present awareness, your soul expands to embrace the entire Kosmos, so that Spirit alone remains, as the simple world of what is. The rain no longer falls on you, but within you; the sun shines from inside your heart and radiates into the world, blessing it with grace; supernovas swirl in your consciousness, the thunder is the sound of your own exhilarated heart; the oceans and rivers are nothing but your blood pulsing to the rhythm of your soul.

Infinitely ascended worlds of light dance in the interior of your brain; infinitely descended worlds of night cascade around your feet; the clouds crawl across the sky of your own unfettered mind, while the wind blows through the empty space where your self once used to be.

The sound of the rain falling on the roof is the only self you can find, here in the obvious world of crystalline one taste, where inner and outer are silly fictions and self and other are obscene lies, and ever-present simplicity is the sound of one hand clapping madly for all eternity. In the greatest depth, the simplest what is, the journey ends, as it always does, exactly where it began.”

by Ken Wilber

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Who might be listening??

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Watch what you say child! Who knows “who” might be listening?

The Universe: I am listening! I am not a place, but all places are within me. I am not a person, but all persons are within me, including you. I am not a concept either, concepts cannot contain me.

So, say what you will child. You are only creating the winds of your thoughts, and they have no place to blow but within me.

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No Complaints

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I was walking through a land which was cleared recently out of its bush for cultivation. The bush was once consisted of tall trees, under growth, and vanes that held it all tight. Now, the trees lie flat on the ground, under growth is chopped up, and vanes aren’t holding anything tight any more. Although, there was a bright Purple flower that caught my eye. It was beautiful, not because of its charm; rather due to its aliveness among the lethargic. It is a vane called “Boo Ma” that managed to survive the carnage.

This certain vane seems to have no remorse, no complaints or no agony about its situation. It is simply doing what it suppose to be doing, and for it, it was the time to blossom. With this realisation as I looked around I could see life leaping out from the dead. Ants are walking in lines again, certain birds are searching through the branches for fresh warms, and the grass is growing green on the naked soil. Nature continues on ever so silently.

It had made me to wonder… Is everything we complain about so passionately so often really worth a complaint?

"The magic is in the doing
Not the thinking, reading
Talking or listening about
But in the get down hands dirty
Shirt off doing."

by Heather Saunders

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In Sri Lanka

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It had been a good five years since I last stood on this magical land called Sri Lanka. Many forgotten memories kept rushing back, in a way to confuse - things are after all quite a bit different from back in the days...



~Kiri Vehera, Katharagama (a giant Buddhist Stupa)~



~Kirinda Temple, South East Corner~



~Passing through Udawalawe National Park - spot the elephant in the distance??~



~Baby Tea plants through the covers of a greenhouse, I have been putting together~



~Handy commuters, the Three-Wheels~

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2010

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To all my dear friends:

For those of you who endure in Time, wishing all of you a Happy Twenty Ten !! and, all the more years to come...

For those of you who don't, wishing all of you a Happy Today for an everlasting Today, forever...

~ Keshawa ~
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