Golden Persian Polar

Art by Norman E. Masters

A Few Simple Words About Love

Love created my mouth to speak and to make waves in Her womb. Who am I to say no! I press close to this flesh of dreams and lightly kiss each moment with Her passion to be known. What can be said? A few simple words can be said, but no meaning can be said, for Love's "saying" is its meaning. Love says itself in every atom of creation - as infinite eloquence. It speaks in the stars, and in a child's eyes. It speaks in the graceful movement of a woman's hand or the muscles moving on a man's back as he reaches for something he desires. In such silent dances of form love speaks for itself, but no meaning will it give us. Nature is abundant, for it comes from the pulse of the unseen, to be seen as Love's ever flowing dress, a dress that all things wear for Love. To give meaning to Love is to try to contain life within a picture of life. Like a picture of God, a picture of Love will not fit into any of our mind frames. We who follow the heart, talk of the heart. We talk and sing of the heart of Love. Yet, we do not know Love; we can only be Love. A fish never sings of the sea that it is one with. How to define the water from the fish when the form of water and fish are the same in essence? All that happens - ever - is the movement of Love transpiring as fish or water for a while. The dress of Love is ever changing. All this happening of creation happens for the attire of one attraction to an other, from the attraction of Love to love. The lover is a quick flame of the fire of Love flaring into manifestation, to be lit by Love's Consciousness of Itself. No fire ever dies. It changes, it burns in the seen and the unseen. Fire is elemental to Love. Fire is Love's longing to be lover and Love as two in One. I ask Love to blink my eye, and think my eye blinks of its own will. And this self that asks, is only a space for Love to be loved within. A giving of space to be Love's lover. No purpose is there higher than this: to be the lover of Love. As a lover every form flowers for my mind to be the mirror of Beauty and Harmony. If I deny Love, I deny all beauty and balance, a balance that is ever a movement of Love in the mutable dance of its own allure; a mirror that Love creates for Herself as this me, that allows Her vision to be Hers, this space of the lover that is Love's own awareness of Love that She may appreciate the flowering of Her creations. This mind is like an open bowl of Her flowers. This bowl of consciousness can hold Her flowers without need to consider its own place and part, but always longing to be just the vessel of Love's flowering. Love defines itself by having no explication. It is above and beyond naming. Love moves within itself, to change one nature to another and so be drawn together by its own attraction as lover to lover. If we call it a force, then it forces nothing. If we call it a power, then where does any other power exist, to what can it be compared? It is just this weaving of limbs into one love to be known as itself. Its silence is discourse, and its communication is silence. In movement and stillness it becomes ever, yet remains eternal. Lovers give up themselves to be Her answer. That answer is always: To Be. Lovers are the manifestation of love. Light shines because of the sun and does not try to be alone. Lovers let go of their own shadows, to be Love's Light. Then they remember just what they are: just Love. Love says: Be My dancing. Be My prayers. Be My joy! Love is knowing you can be nothing else. The only answer is Yes. This is Love's freedom. Everything else is a hiding from God. Does fire hide from air? Love exists to be the flame of life and in that flame is the giving of Love. Love proclaims with every breath that it is perfect to be you. For you are what Love is. Love needs no seeking, only remembrance. Love heals all dreams of any other reality. There is nothing false in you when you remember your Reality in Love. Shadows have no reality of their own; something must cast them. It is this hiding from Love that throws an unreal shadow. Yet Love is not touched by any of this, not in any way ever. So where is the sin? Love is not lit by anything but Love. To be real is to be the loving of Love. Speech is not speech without Love. Silence not silence without Love. Action not action; and stillness not stillness. Love is not a way of living. It is life with no casting of your shadow. Death is but a shadow dreamed in darkness by a mind hidden from its own heart of light. Love takes Her own hands and makes love in Her own heart, always seeking to release the mind from the repetitions that imprison it from its fearful recitation of dreams of lack. For Love is irreducible and unfathomable, infinite and infinitesimal. Simply said: Love is the body of God: a body of Love that seeks to be loved by the giving of Itself to its lovers. The lovers and the Beloved are born together as One creation in order to create together. Love is the Mother. She is the great acceptance. Her stillness ripples out into movement; and that movement is the light of the soul awakening from its own dreams of separation, a soul that is created to flower inside the Mother who shares Her body of love in all things. Love is the flowering of the conscious reality of all things. Love sews Her lovers together with infinite tenderness when we learn to be the weave of Her desire. This is the secret: Be Her weaving. She cares not for our death or the million deaths we would give ourselves with endless thought; for She is One life and does not share any reality but Love. Lovers know a great secret that they must speak from the womb of Life to all who think to sleep. It is this: only Love matters! Love is the One great thought, a thought that has its feeling and impulse in the heart of all Creation, an infinite resonation of Love's will, a will that is not our mind's minding but belongs to the One Mind of Love. It is not apart from anything. A rock and a man are all the same to Love. Yet only a lover of Love can know this. And this knowing sets him free to be Love itself. Knowing about the gift is never enough; the mind must be open to the heart of consciousness to receive its inheritance. That is why Love is Acceptance. It must be taken into a heart that disowns the shadow of its own self and accepts that only Love is Real. The shadow dies that the lover be the life of the Beloved. Love minds us when we give our mind to Her. Then we can create truths as Her garments; but we can never alter Her Truth. Light does not alter the Sun it shines from. Love's light shines from Love. There is only One Source. We need do nothing but shine as Her Consciousness, accepting completely that we are the light of Love. Then as Her light we evolve ever into new spheres of existence, into endless aspects of Love's Consciousness. Awakening to Love, we become unrepeatable, for Love knows nothing of repetition. Love is always new, always utterly new. Love has no past, no future, only perfect possibility. Love is reborn as you, in Her eternal now. The mind surrendered to Love creates love-temples, cathedrals of living experience for the delight of Love. And these creations are the fabric and dress of One Creation, worlds for the unfolding of what Is. And what Is, is only Love. Love creates endless spheres of reality, for Love loves to experience Itself. And ever Her one great thought seeks to open us up to the Self of Love. To be Love, is none other than this: to be its opening. It is knowing that our dust is starlight, knowing that this body is already the light of the stars, stars yet to be born into visibility, light moving as waves in the breath of Her One body. Knowing this, a lover can be like water, falling through Love's fingers as Her play, knowing Life never leaves God's hands, remembering it's "Self" as Her hand in all things. Love's hands are wings that fly all universes of light together. For Love is the great Attraction. Wings joined as One that move as two to be Love's flight. Just as waves emerge from the deep, yet remain at One with the Source. Just as blood is none other than its vessel. Love dresses us like this, and we Her. All is born of the One eternal impetus of Love. We are Her mirror, Her plasma, Her water of Spirit; and She sees us in Her own reflection. When a lover is kind to all manifestations he becomes Love's kindness. He remembers that Love wears us to Her own wedding and that union is always a new awakening of consciousness. Love loves to be known in us. Men and women seek out each other for Her pleasure. Brothers become brothers to all. Sisters run to each other and pray in each other's hearts. We all lose sight of "us" following the heart of Love, becoming Her sight only, becoming only Her sight. This is Love's religion: to be its own vision. We all came here to appear and dance for Love. The dance is love; and Love is the dancer. Nothing ever really happens but this. Everything else is a dream of fear. Only Love is the One who does not dream but gives Herself to time for eternal awakenings. Re-creating possibilities as God's movement within the still purity of That which just Is, this becoming of Her perfect Consciousness. Her children are light and the way of Life is light and sound. From Her womb She creates lips and limbs that speak for Her. From our heart's promptings we put on garments of form. From our awakened realizations, we see at last Love's Perfection. Thus we joyfully take our clothes off again. We give back all that was not ours to Truth, and stand naked for Love, in Love. Grace is Love naked of any idea of self. It is an absence of ownership. It is a gift that comes when nothing is hidden. Being naked, we understand that Love loves to be loved through us. And in that surrender Love reveals Her womb of light once more. Love told me She is simple for She speaks most clearly from a simple heart. She gives me simple words to "say" Her to all. And God's will is Hers alone. So I love to write love letters with this life, to have fun with Her life, loving the way She moves in me as you. For this life is not our own to deny. The only "sin" is to deny Love. Yes, it is a great secret, this love awakening, this love making. A secret that Love places in every child's heart to find for itself. And when we find it, we run to share this secret with all, for this is Love's Way. Knowing that there is nothing but This, we all begin to see with One eye that "Self of Love" which has loved us into being as Love's expression, as Her unfolding, always born anew as this moment, ever growing into greater creations for Love. And this flowering never ends, for it never began. We cannot practice being Love, but we can practice the way of Love. We cannot practice perfection, but we can practice the acceptance of perfection. We can unlearn the shadow dreams that shade mind by giving mind back to Love. We become a mind aware of the source of its light. Knowing that there is nothing else to care for we take care of what we Are. Knowing this only: that nothing matters but Love, that only Love matters. The sun shines. The rain falls. The grass grows. The sky moves. Worlds come and go. Everything changes. Nothing changes. Love weaves all together as itself to be its dance and dress. The One Mind of Love seeks only to mirror its Self, and to bring all its lovers to endless visions of creation. And this alone is the Truth: only Love matters! And this is Love's simplicity. It cannot be said in a few simple words, but it can be seen through Her eyes and heard in the heart as Love speaking to love.


Eric Ashford


All text on this page is Copyright January 2003 by Eric J. Ashford.


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