"Spiritual Boutiques" - Fred LaMotte

 Why plant plastic flowers?
The fragrance of one silent rose
roars louder than a thousand suns.
At night, candles appear to shine,
but where is their glory
when dawn breaks open the sky?
You waste your money
in the market place of spiritual teachers.
Each of them has a little boutique.
But which one has a root or thread,
a lineage leading to the ancient weavers?
Can any of them spin this world
into the weft of stars?
Isn't it time to close up
these shops in your mind?
Wander out beyond the maintained trail.
The wilderness is nearer than you think,
closer than breathing.
Go there, meet your oldest Friend,
the one who whispers your true name
after all those centuries of being
faithful to forgetfulness.
Every time you said, "I believe,"
you fell a little deeper asleep.
Now is your chance to get lost and wake up.
Find true darkness.
The Beloved will use your bones for kindling,
your blood for a spark to light the wildering
blaze of his [Her] Face in your chest.

...that Face becomes your face...
The roar you hear is not a plastic flower.
It is the fragrance of one silent rose.

Fred LaMotte
Uradiance

Photo - Mystic Meandering

Indwelling - Fred LaMotte

 As you fall asleep tonight,
do not take this Breath
for granted.  Honor Her
as a royal guest, making
a spacious tent of your flesh.

For she who contains the galaxies
has come to dwell in you,
pouring her gift of starlight
down your backbone.

...Your exhalation
will lead you to a crystal door.
The key is silence.
Step through.

Follow her dark rainbow
into the golden void.
Let the wings of astonishment
carry your from death to death
until you gaze into your own
original face, floating
in a vastness with no name.

A scent of blossoms
from the garden of the unborn
will guide you home...
Just make the pilgrimage, friend,
the journey of one breath
from the mind to the Heart.

Fred LaMotte
Uradiance

~

Photo - a note card I've had for years
credit on back: Francene Hart

Children of "The Mystery"...

 As children of "The Mystery"
we wander - sometimes from refuge to refuge,
belief to belief,
trying to find what we originally are -
our Original Face,
our Indigenous Nature - beyond tribe;
not of place or time - but
before beliefs, concepts, dogma and doctrine.
We search until we recognize that
Inherent Nature within again and again;
until we have a felt sense of that which
animates our very being; until that
Intrinsic Fundamental Nature
shines through;
until we feel it as that
which we Are - "The Mystery" - in form -
embodied...

Not unknowable, but viscerally tangible...
the intuitive "knowing" of what we Innately Are -
our Living Naturalness...

And our being delights in the recognition -
as "The Mystery" responds with delight in us!
with playfulness and song!
- at being recognized...

Liberated!

Mystic Meandering
Oct. 20, 2020

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering
I was sitting across the room from the window one morning
with the window open, and saw this "Spirit Face" looking in...
the play of light and shadow on the bushes outside the window.
Hope you can see her.  I sat in awe and wonder as "she" peered
through the window with shadowy eyes, looking downward
to the left...

~

What I call "The Mystery" in this poem has many names.
Sometimes I have called it Eternal Being, True Self, True
Nature, Source, The Silence, The Universe, Core Being,
our Essence, The Beloved, and so on...