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goettner.com

goettner.com

I’ve not wanted to undress you. I’ve seen already the divine. What more is there that the spirit of me could house? You exist there inside my spirit. I have breathed in the exhale of you and my breath sustains lifetimes. In a whisper have I told you my deepest secrets, called out your name in my sleep when I thought no one listening. You heard me. No turning away from the truth of my own sound lost there in the echo of vibrations playing like keys underneath the tips of my fingers. You, the piano of my soul. What of you have I loved if not God? In the dark have I sat moon-lighted bright enough that I could see your chest rise and fall beating to the rhythm of life. You slept and I dreamed you. You had wings. Fly with me. I want to go there while remaining here. How could I desire any other place when this time now has gifted you to me? You close your eyes and I blink. Oneness.  I freeze-frame time and space counting your lashes. Infinite. What of my deepest self has called you forth? In the hidden places of the sacred do I hold you. You illuminate still. I have spent lifetimes tracing your face memorizing smooth lines counting the pores that have created your beauty. You are beautiful, a reminder that God lacks nothing.

Listen to the music

Violin+Vintage+HD+Wallpaper

I have stopped the sound to hear the music, listening again to come away… In my mind have I walked there, hand in hand with you inside what it means to travel. There has been no movement and yet the four corners of the earth have been explored. We’ve tasted the wild subtleties of life carrying nothing while holding the |A|ll. How open the road we walk. Vast. Limitations themselves have been limited. The encounter of truth has made clear the way. My meditation has been that of you. I contemplate the source where God dwells. Within. When I go there I find you. How majestic your spirit! How luring your eyes. I follow you that I might see. And when you sit upon the rock I steady myself that your foundation be made whole.

Foreign languages

Magnesina

Magnesina

It comes out of nowhere–a star shooting through vast space illuminating dark skies–and it taps you on the shoulder asking of your readiness.

Are you ready?

You’ve desired it for so long and yet it catches you by surprise leaving you in awe and wonder.

Have you waited for me?

With both patience and anticipation have you sat still with an embrace wide open to the way.

How far have you traveled?

Your trek not in vain when the light of the moon has guided you like a lamp through darkness along the path.

Do you see me?

I stand there in the sun behind the shadow of truth where I last found the note you’d written, the one when you whispered…

Du machst mich so glücklich.

When God breathes

Getty images

Getty images

It lingers on my pillow

wafting like the smoke of incense moving about the space of me.

I inhale memories of sage and chandan reminiscent of temples where monks chant:

om mani padme hum

om mani padme hum

 

In contemplation of your essence do I sit that enlightenment might find me,

that I might encounter that which leads me always to your embrace.

 

God.

 

I’ve seen God in you, resting in the quietude of being.

Footprints in the sand lead me down a path and beside still waters.

 

I swim.

 

And the scent of you lures me into dark caves of thoughts held inside a bottle.

 

Sacred.

 

Between the moon and the ocean.

I’m here to eat

2015/01/img_0403.jpg

Pork belly.
Pigtails.
Octopus.
This is why I’m here.
Tavern on 2.
Food + food = a foodie’s dream between sourdough and arugula.
Bitter|sweet|buttery.
And I’ve swam the bottomless pit of Mimosas.
Intoxicated by sugar.
They call it Champagne,
And I’m sure it’s there below the surface.
St.Helena’s cab arrives like a bold force to be reckoned with.
I reckon so with every sip.
Legs and layers
Walking Napa streets in the dark sneaking grapes off vines.
I take a bite.
Sticky pigtails bursting with cilantro.
Seems wrong to lick my fingers,
So I close my eyes and taste the rainbow the way barbecue lingers long-slow.
Tender with crisp.
What is pork belly if not divine?
And the octopus reaches for me.
Tentacles.
Grilled|fried
It’s the flavor that carries me.
I am carried.
This is why I am here.
To eat.

Photo: My Modernmet

Photo: My Modernmet

I stopped searching that I might find you. I saw pursuit getting in the way of the encounter the way thought gets in the way of feeling.

Open.

What of receptivity sends handwritten letters delivered by the hands of someone trying to feed his family?

Connected.

All things have been connected from the beginning, and even when the end touches vast space, and time crashes against infinity, will all things remain in the openness of the journey. Nothing shatters the soul; we can only be affected, moved to a place of transparency. Is that what they mean by being broken?

Transparent.

There’s something about hurt that causes us to bleed. There’s something about the blood that causes another to care for us.

Compassion.

We must be vulnerable, lest we seem arrogant in our strength, one-dimensional even in times of 3-D. Who tells the story like the storyteller? Who makes clear the road like rain?

Inquiry.

It is all happening–the everything of life–and it sits in the quiet waiting to be seen.

lock

Somewhere in time I closed myself off from the world.

Unknowingly.

Disconnected myself from what it means to feel.

Unbeknownst to me.

Shut the door to exploration for the comfort of solitude. Lost contact with the world around me.

Disappointed.

Unable to feel as deeply for the depth of feeling.

Numb.

Placed my head inside of a book and held tightly the pen.

Isolated.

Behind closed doors I found truth.

Within.

—–

Somewhere in time I opened myself to the world.

Walked out.

Felt what it means to be reconnected.

Aware.

Opened the closed door to exploration of the whole, touching the world around me.

Allowed them in.

Swam the deep end of feeling and felt the ocean’s depth.

Listening.

Lifted my eyes from the pages that I might be inspired by another’s journey.

Let loose the pen.

I still find truth behind closed doors.

I still journey within.

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