Spontaneous Ecstatic Poetry and Prose IV

C Christian Dahinden By C Christian Dahinden, 3rd Mar 2013 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Poetry

These are selections of the ecstatic poetry and prose that spontaneously combust from my being, sweeping pen over page as I watch. What I "hear" is too beautiful to express. The best I can do is translate and something is always lost in translation. Just don't mistake the signpost for the destination no matter how ornate or simple it is decorated.

Just A Little Further

With sweat and effort
Lumbering at pace
Your breath is heavy
Your heart is racing

The thrill of running on
The thrill of exhaustion

You've covered some distance
But there is always a little more to go

The mind's treadmill
Is a state of the art affair
Equipped with a high-definition monitor
And surround sound stereo
You can watch your favorite shows
Even search older episodes
For the dramas, tragedies, and comedies you have come to cherish

Sooner or later though
You remember you signed up for Interval training
And the treadmill is supposed to be programmed to stop occasionally
Instead it seems to be programmed only to increase incline and speed over time

Eventually you come to see that it is a futile exercise
After all your not getting anywhere

So you call for your personal trainer
But they are too busy with some One else

Will you keep running?

I say: Just turn the treadmill off yourself
And head for the shower!

Your Reputation Precedes You

Do you hear the Unstruck percussion?
Does it call you to dance?
Can you see without sight,
The sun behind the mind?
Breathless, do you catch the scent of the wild rose?

Some won't believe, they turn away laughing
The wise man is rendered silent

I have become inebriated with the spirits
Of God's distillery

After all I have nothing to lose,
Your reputation precedes you

For Love From Love

If we speak
Let it be for Love
From Love

A signpost on the seeker's way
Pointing the sacred pilgrimage to Self

The sea is churning in stillness
Waiting without wanting

Don't be confused by Its saltless waters
Its gift is Its sweetness

This is where anger and fear
Are washed clean

Theatre of Personality

In the theatre of personality
The stage is set.

The spotlight of the mind is aimed at the great velvet curtain
It imagines to be veiling the Being.

The moment is come,
The curtain is pulled!


To heighten the anticipation.

But the stage is empty
Just then the being removes Its special
Invisible 3-D spiritual virtual reality glasses

The whole thing was
The newest Vital Force Productions feature film

From the makers of something comes...

No thing!

Who can appreciate this?

Then What?

And then, and then, and then!?

Persona is always awaiting stage directions

The mind behind,
Anticipates a climax

Where are the fireworks?
The explosion of color?

What no trumpets?

But your being is not an event

It is simply watching the vital force
Directing the choreography
Though at times the drama is compelling

It is especially hard not to sympathize
With the main character

At the moment of death
The curtain is drawn
The show is over
No one is left to sigh for relief

Yet someone rests in peace
Who will see that there is no contradiction?

The Forest

The mind
Mistaking itself to be just a persona
Is like a forest of old bristlecone pine

Choked by a bramble of undergrowth
The closer it comes to the flame of being
Begins to burn

One day it catches
And the forest is set ablaze
Burnt to the ground

For some it is a shock
That the mind is still there

But it has changed
No longer so convincingly ominous

See, the fire has opened the bristlecone
And a new forest grows

Its floor is now fertile and receptive
The trees tender

Their trunks are now free of briar
And there is space and quiet

Sunlight penetrates its depths

In its center
A songbird sings
Filling the air with its melody

It soon takes flight
A migrant seasonal visitor
Having escaped the trap of the thickets dark

This Well In My Heart

This well in my heart is so deep
I cast the largest stones I could find
I never heard them hit

I called into it
There was no echo

I couldn't resist the unknown force
It whispered to me


So I did
Head first

I became the water
Now I draw This-water daily

Though I have forgotten my thirst

Old Habits

They say old habits die hard
And I'm the oldest habit that I have

Telling myself the same story for so long now that its kind of sad

Identified with the mind
And Its idea of time
I had almost forgotten That


Now its just funny
The mind trying to be cunning

Each thought pretending to be me

Trying to hypnotize me again
Trying to pull me back in
But I'm closed for business permanently

Interest bankruptcy

Mind's Entertainment

Spirituality is sometimes a simple mind's entertainment
A source of division and pride
In the end an encagement

Instead of an engagement
Instead of an emancipation

To make religion of it is to create a limitation

A limited imitation
Of that which is prior to all creation

So where is the intimation?

What about your situation?

Do you experience liberation?

Or separation, emotional isolation and spiritual emaciation?

Living a life of prohibition and probation?
Is it such a revelation
To see your ejaculation
Was only a mental masturbation?

You won't change that with an incantation
You can't fit Life and Love into a representation

Who you think you are
Is but an actor in Consciousness' feature presentation


Advaita, Being, Contemplation, Freedom, Kabir, Love, Meditation, Mysticism, Neruda, Non-Duality, Poetry, Prose, Quantum Poetry, Relaxation, Rumi, Self-Realization, Soul, Spirituality, Truth, Vasistadvaita, Yoga

Meet the author

author avatar C Christian Dahinden
C. Christian Dahinden, the Chadyoga Upanisad, is a feral monk, writer and mystic, as well as an artist and musician.

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author avatar Retired
7th Mar 2013 (#)

Deep thoughts on the spiritual path. I see many echoes of themes my muse pens through me too...! Nice to see. Blessings and Namaste, rd

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author avatar C Christian Dahinden
7th Mar 2013 (#)

Thanks deeply...

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