Journey into the Flame

Journey into the Flame
Welcome to The Flame. Burning is its nature. It burns everything around it and transforms everything into itself. Its light shines, illuminates and renders things visible.

The heart of the flame is a place of stillness, nothing can touch it and yet it touches everything. It destroys everything and creates everything, everything is absorbed within it. Breathe in and out now. There is a never ending warmth inside the flame a cocoon of softness, all enveloping.

What is left when everything has burned down?

When all certainties are allowed to dissolve into ashes. This is where we start, from the end. A fragrance emerges, a start, fresh, a new word that has no provenance just wants to be heard for no other reason than its appearance.
It is, nothing more nothing less, this is.

Nothing is ever written and no one is ever listening only the fragrance, this beauty, now, the inevitability and perfection of what is carries a beautiful scent. Let’s open our eyes and together let the fragrance carry us to The Flame. Today we burn.

This is our journey inside the flame...



Every time I look at you, I see myself for the first time.
Smile and feel the brightness of one thousand shooting stars.
We are dancing every song unheard, never moving, never together, never apart.
Rise and rise with rage rapture and fire til the end of meaning, only to find the soft embrace of your own open arms catching your fall. endlessly..
Say my name and find me in your own voice.
And now we sit, replenishing ourselves with silence, the source and end of it all..




Strip the face from likes and dislikes. Find the clear river that runs beneath and above. Dive deep, swim, stroke by stroke, breath in the familiar scent all around, all aromas caught by a faint tremble that is the earthquake of your being.. 




How can I dance?
My feet are moving, caressing your face, give me the rhythm through your smile, take my hand and guide me to the brink of your being.
I don’t need you to open your eyes to know where my place is.
I don’t need to say your name to know who I am.
Right before your breath stops my life begins, and always I dance all the contours of your face.




I am the knowing with which you know me
There you and me is no more 




Journeying back
Reading the signs along the road.
Sound, a soft riverbed, flowing and dancing approaching its contours a warm kiss which is the lake of my body.
This body made of here and now, what can it not accept as it softens all of your desires within it. 
Throw an arrow so deep in seeing, burning the path that leads you straight to my heart.
Sit there, find the place in the shape of you moulded by the resounding emptiness of my thoughts.
Nowhere left to go I loosen the grip and a smile tells us we never left home.




We are a Spotless Canvas moved by the hand of God, this is what we whisper to each other under every hidden desire, there is no camouflage strong enough to hide our true nature, we are hidden by a cloak of magnificence..
This is as good as any other day to discover I Am




When I Love you I stop seeing you
I am the one that doesn’t speak and the voice all around




We are closer than close
In between words there is a space, that is where we find ourselves.
Before a question is answered, in living the question, that’s where we salute ourselves.
During the blink of an eye the whole world pauses, that’s where we acknowledge ourselves.
Right before a breath dies and another finds birth, where nature finds its seed, that is where we hold our hands.
And so I look and look only to be greeted by a familiar scent all around, the smile that purses your lips runs daggers through my heart of longing..




How many times should I die, in order to fully live




Freedom is born in fire, the fire that melts all knowledge
Don’t search for hands that can put down the book or legs that can take the leap
Find your heart singing in the echoes of a siren’s song for the broken promise that set him free
Whose movement is the bowing for the one that was never there?
The fulness of the wind tells stories made of ashes and blood, the soothing balm for the wound that can’t be found but only felt




Sunday.. a day of communion.. finding the temple or church that reside in our hearts.. the shortest path made of no distance at all where all seeming masks and roles are shattered in a glowing breath.. the first breath you will ever take is Now, in this breath the same force that holds all planets within you.. all the great deeds and worst mischiefs find peace and solace in this breath..we are blinded by our own magnificence..cradled by our own open arms.. walking inside ourselves looking for the eyes with which we see.. searching for the path of communion with the One we already are, have always been and can only be..


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