Photo by Greg Mote from Glendora, CA, USA - 2011-12-08 07-54-18 P1110228, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=37045395Photo
There's a moon in my body, but I can't see it!
A moon and a sun.
A drum never touched by hands, beating, and I can't hear it!
As long as a human being worries about when he will die,
and what he has that is his,
all of his works are zero.
When affection for the I-creature and what it owns is dead,
then the work of the Teacher is over.
The purpose of labor is to learn;
when you know it, the labor is over.
The apple blossom exists to create fruit;
when that comes, the petals fall.
The musk is inside the deer, but the deer does not look for it:
it wanders around looking for grass.
Photo By Surya Prakash.S.A. (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
. . . .be not drunk with wine, in which is dissoluteness, but be filled in the Spirit, speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.
We were all made to drink of one Spirit.
~1 Corinthians 12:13
Jesus said, “If anyone thirst let him come to me and drink. He who believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water.’ Now this he said about the Spirit.
Photo by The Central Intelligence Agency (The World Factbook - Afghanistan) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Take from love "I want"
Take from love "I need"
Take from love its object
Take from love "I grieve"
Take from love "hold on"
Take from love "please, please"
What is left
this naked love
is the outer glow
of God's great Light
It is a passing glance in the mirror
reminding you who you are
~from Slip through the Keyhole
Photo: "Pommier" by Urban at French Wikipedia. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pommier.jpg#/media/File:Pommier.jpg
No alcohol was used in the making of this blog. Created in the tradition of divine intoxication made famous by Rumi, Tagore, and other lovers of the Beloved.
Adria Estribou is a freelance writer and editor in Hawaii. She is in her third decade of meditation, this time around. She delights in words almost as much as she loves silence.