Angel of the Sun
Copyright (C) 2000, Terry L. Loveall, all rights reserved.
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Love is the flow of that
Which encourages the object
To be all that it can be
Of what it is.
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My heart burns when there is someone there.
My heart burns when there is no One there.
All or nothing.
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Boots over-flow from lack of innocence.
Mind over-runs with thoughts of penitance.
The Void discharges all.
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Up all night doing Zikr
detaching myself from you.
Only to find you have become myself.
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Your voice is devastation
Piercing into everything.
The peace that ensues.
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Fantasies
Of shared creation from the joy of love.
Of a Friend with which to share.
Of child-like faith to conspire with in innocence.
Of a beautiful woman to behold.
Of burning passions with which to purify
the heart and soul.
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The sun plummets into the ocean
trailing a plume where it has been.
I am here.
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Abstinence, tenderness, innocence,
pain. Who can resist?
But you will.
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A sister to a part of me,
Yet not related, but relating.
Can it be? What will it be?
Hu knows.
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Free form flowing in my heart.
Is it love?
No. It is You.
The love delineates more clearly
that which is perceived.
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A warm blanket enshrouding this
being called us.
Warming and sustaining itself
independent of individual action.
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A flower loose on the beach
floating in on the tide.
First inside then outside and then
the wave scatters me on the petals.
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A gentle flame as colorless
as burning alcohol ravages
my thoughts and feelings.
I look outside and see but a reflection
of this inner consumption.
Its smoke is the life blood of my ego,
which instead
fuels my determination
to become all that I am.
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The wind devas come to play
in the interstices of being;
kicking up all of the detrus of self
whirling it around for all to see.
They, as everyone else, are merchants
of the soul paying attention
in order to gain attention.
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An angels wings fanning
the flames of desire,
funneling them into a
crucible of refinement
to be poured into a mold of ideals
for final shaping on the anvil
of the angels love.
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Down is up, in is out,
everythings changed.
The world has become
recalcitrant, contrary.
I don't care, You are Love.
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The searing austerity
of the ascetic provides the only
contrast against which the Beloved
allows Herself to be arrayed.
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Lights and forms beckon me inward,
Daring me to come as I was.
Not caring, They advance outward
Accepting me for what I am.
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Eternal Being,
Glorious Angel,
Veiling herself in serene Beauty
Acquired from the chaos
of being human.
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Enduring Being, patient Being.
Complete unto Herself.
Yet completing that around her
With acknowledgement.
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Dare you have the courage
to be all that you are?
What a joke!
After so much pain,
how can you possibly afford
Not to be?
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The timid flower bud
unfurls in pulsating motion.
Opening and closing at maddening
times and speeds.
The Beloved manifests in Her own way.
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You accept me as I am,
You see what I be,
You ask why others try to remake me,
I am changed by your Perception.
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As I stand talking to echoes
From my past, your Presence
Slips over me and lays its head
On my shoulder.
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Lost in contemplation without Hu.
Lost in contemplation with Hu.
Hu are All.
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God incarnated divine aspects as man,
And perfected this incarnation as woman.
I am lost in your perfection.
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You see me and I am changed.
I see You and I am changed.
The eternal aspects of Beauty
and Being shall not be denied.
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The stirrings within my personality
bring large chunks to the surface.
Sometimes those, like in a septic tank,
become the ambergris of the heart.
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I struggle for words,
I struggle without words.
Your Presence exists independently.
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Mastery to overcome my ego.
Clarity to share awareness with you.
It is out of inspiration that this all flows.
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Hide and seek of my heart through my ego.
You peek at me and I reach out for you.
You're gone until I'm no longer looking,
When you tantalize me again with your Presence.
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Poignant heart that makes a razor dull,
Obstinate ego that makes an idiot look sharp.
Caught between these two blades
Like a Rose being cut for the altar.
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Angel of the sun
Warming those about her, nurturing them;
Yet, have you really seen the sun?
It takes a madman or a mystic
to see within this light.
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Hidden light reigns forth through
the sovereign love of a Friend.
Unseen for what it was.
Unforgettable for what it is.
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Mind burning beauty, soul searing radiance.
A moth, enlightened by a blow-torch,
Is accepted and nourished by the flame.
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If I chase you
You'll catch me,
Seperate and distinct.
But if I pursue my Self,
Then I'll soon become You.
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The only proper seduction
Is with the Beloved within.
Properly done, the Joy expands
Until those near and Dear
Can't help but join in.
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Compassion is the resonance
of one's own pain with that of another.
If there is no compassion
There is no common experience.
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Acceptance, what is it?
Acceptance, how does it work?
Acceptance, what does it do?
Acceptance is Love from the Beloved.
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It matters not with whom you are,
Nor what it is you do,
There comes a time when all that counts
Is what it is you Be.
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Soul mate, another yourself,
A complimentary being. What
Is this drive to find One such
But the mirroring of God.
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This is so difficult!
To live knowing but unable
Yet to live ably and still Know.
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Words of beauty,
Phrases of turning form.
Their pallor in comparison to you
Hides the cherishing angel
Of their life.
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I still can't get It right!
It permeates my existance,
Interferes with my life,
Seduces my attention,
Hides behind words,
and insists on being You.
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Late nights eve pouring out my heart,
overflowing into words
which in their form become a looking
glass threshold into Selflessness.
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I looked within to find God
And could discern no distinction.
I turned to the Beloved
but could perceive no face.
Then you turned to me and
and all was reflected in your Being.
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The pilgrimage to Mecca,
The presence of the Kabah,
Seem so pointless
since You have become my heart.
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The white-water roar of self,
Thundering, roaring, moaning;
Evaporates into the silken peace
Of your Presence.
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Friend, Lover, Mirror, Beloved;
Is there really any difference?
Some learning comes from choice
And some regardless of what we choose.
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By being accepted as all right,
The black coal of obsession
Becomes the diamond crystal of Faith
From the internal heat
and pressure of Love.
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In the sobriety of intoxication
With the Beloved exists a causality
That is whole and indivisible by
Inspection and Judgement.
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Fire and flame,
Love and burning,
You and I,
How to tell the difference?
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'Closer to you than your juggler vein';
First so close I couldn't not notice,
Now so close I cannot see.
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Gentle fragrance of pot-pourri,
Sweet scent of Shalimar;
Your essence overwhelms me.
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Love, like an insult,
Can only affect you
If you accept it.
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The Beloved's presence, always here,
So close as to be myself,
Yet, half a skin away.
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Accepting all that you are,
Giving all that I am,
Wanting all that we could be.
Is this all that is necessary?
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How do you be a friend?
First be a friend to your selves.
Then find a self most like your friend
And do with your friend
As you would your self.
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To learn that one is Love
Is a glorious thing,
To find another that Knows also
Is the finest of graces.
To consumate it is beyond Reason.
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Opening up to what there Is by releasing
The pain that has hidden reality.
But the concern for the Beloved
Gives teeth to these dregs of agony.
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Drunkeness and Intoxication both
Lead to exhaustion.
One to that of body and mind,
The other to that of the ego.
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My Friend, other Self, Beloved;
Another perspective.
Your calm, nurturing contemplation
Is more formative than any force.
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Rather than say
'Give me burning, burning, burning!'
Which is not enough; I say
'Give me Love, Love, Love!'.
Mere burning is but a state of rest.
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If the full Love of a mature Mystic
Has not terrified you,
You are missing some of the most exquisite
Agony a soul can experience in a body.
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The Beloved in a Human is a
Rare and Wonderous Beauty.
The Beloved as a Human is even
More Rare and Beautiful.
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To go through Hell for anyone
is to be Damned.
To go through Hell with a friend
is an interesting experience.
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Insanity comes to those in Love.
But is this wrong? No,
It is appreciation of Beauty.
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If you do not pay attention,
the cost soon becomes
Everything else!
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Sitting, while waiting for You,
reading Rumi I Burn.
In consumption?
No. In anticipation.
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Clarity sharpens,
Coherence increases,
Stability solidifies.
The gain?
Increasesd pressure to become
my Self.
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Intense, heavy feelings,
obliterate my refined
sensibilities.
To be savored
and released.
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Some people speak in tongues,
while others speak
in flames of Truth.
You inspire the state
of Burning Existance.
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Loving nurturing, acceptance,
tolerance and guidance.
Out of Altruism?
No, from Joyfull self interest.
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If you won't be my lover,
the least I can be
is your Brother.
But be fore warned!
I will turn from one to
the Other, without notice.
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If you wish for unconditional
Love, then just relax and
accept it.
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Essential essences are but
labels for aspects of the
underlying Unity.
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The essence of a rose
Or an intention is an
Ever-lasting Soul.
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One can never 'have' Love,
All that is really possible
Is to BE Love and then to
Appreciate the reflection.
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The resonance of pain can be
a seperating force,
Which enables the perception
of Prescence.
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Your constant Prescence
would be Overwhelming
Without the constant Love
that is your Being.
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