by mIEKAL aND and Maria Damon
Sitting quietly for many years the man accesses his X-space. Leaved, symmetrical, carefully x-bitten, an O-mind inscribed for an age to come. Sitting, sitting next the echelon of simple pauses, between which clarity clears. Leaf stitched on leaf, sutra sutured, breath plied on breath, bones piled on bones. All things lead to a man in repose, ancient one with words. The meditator disappears into the leaf on whose surface he is super-imposed. On the link to his image imagined otherwise, distant flower flying lotus—arms stitched with gold, scarred with the writing knife. Exist the stillness, mind the naming all things syllabic, certainty with suture and melting into the surface on which he is inscribed. The nature-other random quiet-sitting is attainment—last ficus in the grove suitable for leafbook. The book of leaves unfolds as a breathing man, luxuriating in simplicity. S-glyph could only be water replenishing the cistern, curving carving the terrain. Free from fear, the vine twines 'round the fig tree in its serene pot. All things wound inextricably around that which is most beyond grasp. Gold leaf leaves the stained mouth brilliant with its dust. Fish eye of god-seething spirit alabaster—standing aside & beneath. Light is breathing golden fire in golden orbit. Quiet power sleeps in the feet of the beholder at slumber amid the ashvattha grove. Whosoever eats of the fig is impregnated by the fig-deity. A day as long as a year & a year which lasts a moment | of the tree. A year is sleeping inside a moment; a fig is sleeping inside a golden leaf; a god is sleeping inside a sitting man. Symbol for money tumbles inside its vessel, the space inside of which contains all space known or unknown. Letter-like shapes in golden fire can barely be apprehended...come down, golden dove, and bring the whispered transmission in your flight. Instructions will be passed silently before the heat of the day—each day a medallion of several signs prepared for contemplation. Meaning is generated in breathing; love is mastered in signs inlaid with symbols.
by mIEKAL aND and Maria Damon
He is an animal and he is a plant, walking on two feet with a glorious tail.
The collective is about moving forward through liana & deep grove—moving! as! if! yesterday! has! been! forgotten!
Sweetness the medium of whispered transmission, from the fig-deity to the starving imaginary.
Assembling for the privilege of knowing small truths, discretion among the honorees leading single-file the noise of spiritual discipline.
Sugar and seed, dust and pollen drench the opening mind.
Gnosis-being inside ficus religiosa without human body or the five earthly senses (even though the glyph is marked otherwise).
Nothing blossoms, nothing fruits forth, nothing tastes and nothing writes its bliss, because the communication between fig and hand is unutterably perfect.
Land of 10,000 groves swept away, fish-wealth becomes unchecked expansion, the spirit of belonging becomes the hazard of having.
Dispersal of elements as spores is ultimately all to the good. But concentration of elements as sweetness and seed-plenty is also good.
Taste of fresh fig is as close to paradise is as close to the moment of earthly onward is something so sweet dripping—dripping down.
Teeth against fig-flesh, fresh explosion under an effulgent sun.
Thieves cover themselves in leaves only to erase the mantras the onlookers swore to remember.
Under eaves and leaves and shadows and sheets, thief-lovers swore eternal return through reckless propagation, slipping among the root systems of mango, fig and rosewood.
Lifting the weight of yesterday bound by the confines of tomorrow a crow & a soldier cross the river—hopscotch on rocks & islands of red red clay.
Fig-wine lustrous in the tumbler, fig-seeds sticky in the mouth, fig-leaves hand-like welcome strangers to the grove of shaded river.
A jingle of shells spilled onto the table, a seer reading a precautionary tale, a spray of cardamom freshly cut, how one ascendant pokes at the holes in the universe.
Neither staying nor going, the river waters its algebraic roots, sinking beneath itself through its porous skin to feed unfurling tendrils.
Small world of one man's mind described in unknowable terms, jagannivaasa* paataal**, leaving, always leaving the followers behind.
In a world of hooks and loops the jaguar slinks through groves of plenty.
Deva-short-of-breath awake through the night, dream-bovine from another village crashing through tangle of undergrowth.
Remembers the depth of breath, tendencies tamed, startling starlight agaze with peaceful self-reproach, recovers equanimity in light-dappled sleep-space.
* refuge of this world
** nether-world
There is a circle of pedestrians mulling thru out the Acceptable Cafe. Inclusion in much a group is limited to the energici. A viable symphony of movement, concentric. Chairs have been arranged like flower petals, the lighting is tinted to include the sliver of highlights of most people's features.
The world is dumping electronic signals into the room, an unanimous density of vibration. One pedestrian, somewhat coffeedrunk, is ordering others into position. His forehead is leftover from an old movie. Ponderous, delivering the voice with fashionable ease. Storage of essence in a crucible of manners. Escape from conclusion, long wings of guilt & responsibility cloudward rising thru red skeleton.
A dog is pinched between a cluster of chairs. He mistook them for lavender flowers. The dog is a member of a secret fraternity, ancient in its inclusion of unwanted types. And it is this bay of dogs that is the earthly submission to natural law. A dog will go in circles too. To join any happening loyally.
Many mutterings of excitement in the background. Society is a chain-link fence & the Acceptable Cafe is confined within. The workers continue to coffee break, never worried or weird. Because we are power, we are sound, we are the ones excluded from sizing up the building aura. Silver shining world gathered momentum. Sky ball.
Another animal stops its life. It wants everything for itself so it has nothing. Likewise that is what it needs to hear, so when the animal overhears "it wants everything for itself, so it has nothing" it bounds into a circle of darkness outside the ring of light.
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