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Mystical Lion

I soar with the songs my heart always sings and ride on the wind like a lion with wings.

The Grace of Suffering, Part III
Here in the belly of the beast
In the shadow of shattered hope
I used suffering like a submarine
Dove straight down through the heart of darkness
Met the madness head-on
The heartbreaking strata of psychic pain
The raw bewilderment of birth
The rage of infancy
The sting of childhood deprived and ignored
The urgent aching need for reflection
All that throbbing tenderness lost to the shell of pseudo self
Ego’s hollow core is a ghost, a whisper, a memory, a lie
Deeper still, past idea, past impulse and image altogether
The dissolution of emptiness into emptiness as emptiness
The Stillness and Silence at the Center of us all

I thought release was a thought, but I thought wrong.
I thought release was a feeling, but I thought wrong.
I thought release was forgiveness, but I thought wrong.
I thought release was self-sacrifice, but I thought wrong.
I thought release was an act of will, but I thought wrong.
I thought release was a spiritual gesture, but I thought wrong.
Bewildered and still in anguish, I simply gave up.
And release unfolded like a butterfly

And the Raven said:
Be not afraid.
For when the Angel of Death comes,
She will be the most beautiful thing you have ever seen
And you will desire nothing more in that moment
As you secretly always have,
Than her dark and gracious embrace
Forever after

The Crow and the Lioness went to sea
In a beautiful teal-green dory,
They took some mash, and plenty of cash,
Wrapped up in a Stephen King story.
The Crow looked up to the sun above,
And cawed to a very small lute,
“O lovely Felion! O Felion, my love,
For a Felion you’re pretty damn cute,
You’re cute, You’re cute!
For a Felion you’re pretty damn cute!

I sit alone atop my throne
And survey my kingdom below
And silently stare at the vast blue sky
And watch as the green things grow
Relaxed and open, I accept everything
In the Knowing that all things are free
Life rises and falls and rises again
And I simply let it all be
We are all of us royal
And animal too
In Presence sublime
All natures are true
In hunger, I hunt
In heat, I mate
All is accomplished
There’s no need for fate
So climb up here with me
And take in the view
For with each breath I take
The world forms anew

We are all patterns of Infinity seeking identity.
We are all patterns of Eternity seeking time.
We are all patterns of Light seeking energy.
We are all patterns of Knowing seeking attention.
We are all patterns of Love seeking love.
There is no-thing here to find; only a Truth to See.
Release the patterns of your mind and restore your sanity.
Cease to seek for something else and learn to simply Be.
The lies we refuse to hide behind become the Truths that set us free

I Am-biguity
I am the barbarian of joy,
The jester of grim,
Cynical in an accepting way,
Decisive on a whim,
A tender-loving sinner,
A misanthropic saint.
I’d tell you more about myself,
But it seems I really ain’t

In the equations of entanglement, one constituent cannot be fully described without considering the other.
So the question is: in the entanglement called relationship, can someone be moved, changed, or otherwise affected without being physically touched?
Is Love a nonlocal action?
And the answer is: of course.
The proof?
Before our wave function collapsed, we were a mated pair of particles sharing a singular spin—only to interact and fly off in opposite directions.
Now quantum entanglement is the only way we communicate.
You shift; I shift. Time-space is irrelevant. So is doubt.
This is called spooky action at a distance.
I should know: I’ve done the science.
And I’m still spinning

I am an exploding star,
And the sprout of a flower.
I am the timeless Now
In an ever endless hour.
I am both birth and death
Both hope and fear,
Perpetually present,
Neither distant nor near.
Never was I born,
And I’ll never pass away.
I am the ever fleeting moment,
Forever here to stay.
I am Creation unfolding
And Emptiness sustained.
I Am that I Am
Beyond all form and name.
You who have found me
Will never know lack.
You who have forgotten
Will never come back.
So quiet all your thinking,
And sit perfectly still,
And lose the illusion,
To abide in the Real

On Consciousness
Consciousness is a fundamental property of Reality.
Consciousness is a simple all-inclusive Field of Knowing, or Awareness.
Conscious “knows” itSelf. It is Self-Aware. It does not require any specific quality or object to “be aware of.” Rather it is simply Self-Aware.
Because Consciousness ItSelf has the innate property of Self-Awareness, Consciousness can and does exist independent of a “self” who knows it.
Humans and other living beings are, in a sense, receivers of/for Consciousness; that is, like a radio receives and “translates” already-existing waves into electrical impulses and sound, so too do beings “receive” Consciousness.
The “contents” of consciousness are purely a function of the nervous system translating energy, or information, and superimposing this over the top of (or within) the Field if Consciousness. In other words, the contents of Consciousness are purely perceptual and conceptual.
The Field itSelf remains unaffected by any of this information, by any of its contents—just like the sky remains unaffected by clouds passing through it.
All of this is directly discernible and knowable by human beings who devote themselves to the process of seeing/understanding.
This direct discernment is what is known as “realization.”
Living from the immediate perspective of realization is what is known as “enlightenment.”

The main point in lucid dreaming is not to become enamored with the contents of the dream, with the unfolding drama, either as witness, participant or controller. Rather it is to become aware of how the mind alone is capable of generating entire dreamscapes sans all extroverted sensory input, creating endless worlds populated by friends and strangers, gods and demons, sex and sanctity, all of it in a constant state of change–in other words, very much like the waking state. From the repetition of this experience, it occurs very deeply to the Dreamer-mystic how this exact same process continues with eyes open. That is, you become increasingly aware of exactly how much of what you call “reality” is actually mind-made, a “cognitive overlay” of sorts, and also how much of what you think of as “outside of me” is actually occurring within the same space of consciousness as your thoughts and dreams. These are liberating insights.

Hard Time
Vodka in her veins,
Ice in her eyes,
Hell in her heart,
Heaven in her thighs,
Swallower of souls,
Mouth full of fire,
Demon of Love,
Angel of desire,
She fed me the plan,
Then left me to die,
So, “Guilty, your Honor,
Now please hang me high.”
You see, I’m afraid
If you don’t make this end,
I’d find a way out,
And I’ll do it again.
She’s judge and she’s jury,
She’s verdict and crime.
Just us with a blindfold,
My sentence? Hard time.
She’s inside my mind,
She’s under my skin,
Damned heaven sent,
Sweet blessed sin.
So kill me, Your Honor,
And make it sublime.
She done took my heart
And I’m doing hard time

I taste you with my fingertips
I feel you with my tongue
I see you with my heart
I touch you with my song
I clutch the colors of your passion
I hear the whisper of your skin
I smell the texture of your ecstasy
I savor the flavor of your sin

The Queen of Hearts looks so lovely iIn her royal lingerie
You understand it’s a losing hand but you still can’t help but play

Reflection is refraction. Being is unbearably bright. It is all we ever know. The prism of the mind shatters Light Into the spectrum of consciousness, And manifestation is its rainbow.
~ mysticallion

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