Carolyn

Yet another adventure, with a free pass to enter

An Adventure

There is an adventure, greater than any other, which takes no plane, no ship, and requires no ticket to enter.

There is a place, my friends, to fly with no wings, to rest without sleeping and to journey without walking. Having only one requirement, which is to enjoy, I ask you, “Do you remember having the heart of a child?”

Do you remember the delight of a swing as we strove to pump ourselves higher and higher, jumping through the air and laughing with glee to fly weightless and free for only one brief second?

In Defense of a King

Warrior man, do not despair,
you are not involved in a game of solitaire

It is the strength of your heart which pulls tight your bow,
it takes the fires of love to defeat your foe

Available to you, is the power behind every breath,
an ultimate tool, which determines even life and death

You will not be defeated, if you understand these words,
It is the ocean, not the drop, whose power conquers …

Once long ago, before the stories of the great round table, there were kings. To wear the crown of king was a thing of consequence, and there were only a few true kings. A true king is a master, in touch with the mysteries of life and sworn to obey only the highest laws of light. This is what makes a man a king.

The Beggar and the Rich Man

Once upon a time, in the ancient city of Calcutta there lived two men. These men had never formally met, but saw each other on the street almost everyday. One was a very rich man named Ababa. The other was a beggar named Saoel. The rich man was dressed in the finest silk and his cloak was embroidered with the finest gold thread. The beggar wore only rags and his feet were calloused and tough from having walked many miles with no shoes. On the face of Ababa were lines of worry and stress mixed with the look of importance and prominence. On the face of Saoel there was a look of innocence and joy.

The mirror of my lover

As I search your face, I am drawn to the depths in the pools of? your eyes. Shyly,? hesitatingly, fluttering butterflies of small fears, half hidden, I am very much the secret watcher.

I am temporarily held captive by the feeling of the silky softness of your skin against my own. I am in awe of the pounding rhythm of your heart which carries? mine, to places that alone I would never dare to go. I catch my breath with the beauty of you.

There is something so pure, so innocent, so much of the truth of love reflected here. A man is not supposed to be so open, so vulnerable, so true, I hear that nasty whisper spoken in my? mind. But, I am the one whose breath is stopped.

You are the one who is capable of remaining in the pure breathing space of in and out, accepting the truth of….. that you love, with no boundaries imposed on your heart. You are a seeker of? freedom’s spaces, a lover of love itself and all of her faces. I am the learner here.? Where did you gather such courage? How did you muster such will to circumvent the mirage of no one loving?

Yes, I will stay with you awhile. Resting in the miracle of the mirror. You, who is reflecting the open ended possiblities of? my own heart.

It is my desire? as well, to discover. To take this? journey into the depths of myself. I will rest here for just awhile, joined in breath with you as a secret watcher. Until my own true lover comes, rising from the sea of love within. I will be a drop in my own ocean, until the ocean takes from me all seperation. I will celebrate with you this dance of secret mirrors. But only still for awhile….

Love?

The other day, I was talking to a friend of mine who had mentioned that he had recently read a book written by a well known “New Age” author who stated that being in love is the closest experience there was to being fully present. ( Being fully present is a good thing, I might add ).

Now, I know that being in love is fun. The colors of life seem brighter. There is a new excitement to the days of loving, a new feeling of delight in anticipation. But, as I heard this I wondered, why do we always think that being in love has to involve another person? Why doesn’t it occur to most of us that being in love could mean, being in love with life itself.

Or, better yet, could it be that it is simply the feeling of love that is the joy? And that the object of our affection is only the excuse to feel this exquisite feeling? Not that I am discounting companionship or even – dare we say, sex – but, I am talking about love: the deliciousness of it. The warm, fuzzy, all- over coziness of it.

If it were not necessary to have an object to be in love with, we could forever have the completely unattached, unlimited, immensely unimaginable experience of LOVE. MMMMMM can you feel it?

The floods of love leave heart’s gates open wide

with no offer of control to stem or turn its tide

Freed at last, the power of its waters knows no bounds

Fear, despair, bitterness with ease it drowns

Love’s searching currents drawn to parched human landscapes

relentlessly smoothing the stone hardness of their faces

Its deep pools giving shelter to all of life’s children

providing home to every searching pilgrim

Love knows all

sees all

seeks all

to be ALL