Monday, August 31, 2015


In the immaculate heaven of the Lord of Life,
There is neither gain nor loss;
To we fools lost in mundane wandering
Each day seems the same.

Those who seek the Ultimate
Have nowhere to turn for guidance;
In the West we are bereft
Blinded by materiality.

It's just one small step to lift the veil
So that the sun will rise within you;
The Son will rise within your mind
And you'll be One and not two.

Words can mar most things,
Names are a great deception;
The names for God, the devil's names
Have been wrong from the inception.

The names of poets matter not,
One poet only has blessings;
One Name disguised as many names
Only the nameless can undress you.

And guide you to the holy place
Between the forehead and the breast bone:
The crucible is right here
To transmute lead to gold.

Only one Cosmos, just one Mind
At the core of the holy fountain;
There are ten thousand paths to dawn
At the peak of the silver mountain.

Words cannot, will not express
        what is worth expressing;
The magic circle of the Mind rests on the
         eternal stone
Rock of ages, rock of the soul
The world resides on a river of stone;
A friend will take you hand and lead you
To the magic temple.

This very night as the full moon throws out
        dancing angels,
10,000 spirits in their dreams come
        to swirl around;
The holy source of everything will accept
        no names
The changing Spirit won't be called
         anything but change.

There is a genius at the core everyone 
But marred, distracted by commercial games
No one sees the Way;
If I can't penetrate your mind
What will you ever see?
In the lineage of Osho
The fields are ripe for planting.

There are 10,000 paths to dawn at the peak
         of the silver mountain.
But you will never see the Source
          deluded by so many passions;
No name will persuade you; no name
           will set the mark,
 A billion new illusions will keep us
            in the dark.

                               (C)2015 by W.G. Milne

        I just spent three days on an island in the middle of Lake Nipissing, a lake that is ninety miles long at
North Bay, Ontario. I was on a friend's property. Obviously the Spirit of the place is quite strong for these words just poured through me
at 4:00 A.M. when I had no thoughts at all in my head.
        The silence was unending and magnificent. Only the sound of lapping water could be heard, and the sound of birds and wind in the pines.

                                        Thanks,    Tim and Greg.

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