Lovers of the World

We are dancing in an endless ocean of love
Swimming with the beautiful ones
Unlocking the door to Eternity
Feeling the breath of the ecstatic wind
Tasting some nectar
Catching a glimpse of the sun
As it pours out its light
For the lovers of the world. – Kavi 2004

I wrote this poem, and many others, when the relationship with my wife, Amoda Maa Jeevan, fully blossomed in 2002/3. The first few years of our coming together were ecstatic and brought the poet out of me. We were like delighted children, tumbling around the world in rapture. Our favorite experience was to bundle into a cafe and dash up to the counter and announce, ‘Two cappuccinos please, we are here to celebrate our existence on this planet!’

It has now been over 15 years and, although the ecstatic nature has transformed and matured, it still has this quality. It is love, and not just love of each other, but the greatest devotion of each of us to love itself, and therefore to truth itself.

Recently we were asked to talk about our relationship. Amoda is a teacher so she does this kind of thing a lot. I’m not, but I am always up for talking about new ways of relating, because relationship is where the rubber really hits the road.

So if you are of a mind and have some time, I invite you to watch our interview and see what you think. It is honest and open. We even talk about sex.


turn to face the broken

if you expect these words to be positive
look away
i am not concerned with being positive
i am for what is real
and that means sometimes
turning to face the broken
and the messy
it means looking deep into
the heart of the darkness
i would rather face the agony of the truth
than the pretence of the lie
for in turning around
to meet sorrow and suffering
our steely hearts may break
and from that broken place
may pour the milk of human kindness
and without kindness
there is nothing but
an empty existence.

Patterns Weaving

All I seem to see now
Are patterns
And waves
As though life itself
Were but one single thing
One single tapestry
Of form
Weaving in and out
Between the visible and the invisible
At moments I recoil
In staggered wonder
As I see the whole of existence
The universe, stars, and the firmament itself
You and me and the tiny ant
As just shapes of energy
Coming in and out
In and out

At times I lose interest
In our individual stories
Of greatness or suffering
And collapse into
The deepest acceptance and awe

At other times I love
The way the pattern weaves itself
Through us all
With its delicate nuances
We call our lives

My oh my! What astonishing
Divine intelligence
Is behind all this?

leave the world to see it clearly

to love and understand this life

you must consciously transcend it

even for a moment

you must go beyond its shores

leave its gravitational field

and see from far above

when you look down upon

this spinning blue ball

your heart will open and your mind will clear

all it takes is one moment

of total clarity and vision

and everything false may dissolve

what heavenly joy it is to see with no blinkers!

Everything is swinging: heaven, earth, water, fire,
and the secret one slowly growing a body.
Kabir saw that for fifteen seconds, and it made him a servant for life.

whatever comes – friend or foe?

there are two ways of meeting what comes
but one road leads to prison
and one to freedom
one way is as though everything is a friend
and the other way is as though nothing is
you can try for some imagined middle path
where some things are friends
and yet others are foes
and somehow trust your beliefs and your conditioning
but it will never lead to love or joy
only to some half way house
where everything is kind of grey…

but here is the thing
to meet everything as a friend
requires you to drop every notion of the world and your self
all judgements, all assumptions, all beliefs
and every idea of what is right or wrong
or good or bad,
without becoming a victim or a fool


to find this freedom you might be searching for
you must go naked and shameless
into the world
and you must allow the world in
regardless of how it appears.

this is the path of the truth seeker.

Krishnamurti suddenly paused, leaned forward and said, almost conspiratorially, ‘Do you want to know what my secret is?’ ” (There are several accounts of this event; details vary.) Krishnamurti rarely spoke in such personal terms, and the audience was electrified, Dreaver recalls. “Almost as though we were one body we sat up… I could see people all around me lean forward, their ears straining and their mouths slowly opening in hushed anticipation.” Then Krishnamurti, “in a soft, almost shy voice”, said: “You see, I don’t mind what happens.

swimming in a vast ocean

i looked for something to cling to
and realized i was swimming in a vast eternal ocean
of consciousness
i saw huge forms rising
planets exploding, stars dancing across the sky
mountains, trees and ants
all doing the same thing
and in that vision i saw myself
sometimes terrified
and sometimes bewitched
by the staggering beauty
of it all
and in that seeing i stopped
looking for something to cling to
or some way of understanding anything
and i fell back and rested
in the arms of the one intelligence
that animates all things
what astonishing peace came upon me
and what great joy.

a tale told by a busy mind

i am love returned to you
i am what you see
in the mirror
but cannot face
your secret heart
your true reflection
and face within face within face
even though you may see
a thousand things each day you look
and make a thousand judgements
and carry a thousand fears
i am here
patient and silent
sometimes you see me
and then i vanish,
dissolved by judgments and stories
of past or future
for only in the present moment
can you truly see me

don’t worry dear one,
we have always been together anyway
and one day you will know me as your own sweet self
this life is a sweet and sour game
a ride, a carnival of dreams
a tale told by a busy mind
and only a return to love
is certain
for you.

The Illusion of Opposites – A Story

As it arrived at the gathering
Death appeared to mock Life, taunting it
With an arrogance, a leering smile and a brash dismissal,

Shrouded in black, faceless and anonymous.
“We are locked in eternal embrace,” grinned death,
“And I always win. I take them all, I take everything eventually.”
“Ah,’ said Life, Sweet Death, always thinking in opposites.”
“What is it you win, exactly?”

You do not understand, obsessed as you are by transitions and crossings. You see a part of the picture and think it is the whole picture. I see the whole picture and embrace everything inside it. The coming and going, the movement towards and the movement away, the struggle and the ease, the peaceful acceptance and the angry struggle, and the longing for immortality. Nothing is separate from the whole. There is only one thing, sweet death, and you, and I , and everything that ever has been and ever will be, is it. You may imagine me as your enemy, but I love your delusion as a mother loves her unruly baby.”

They left the gathering together.

man’s folly

surely there is only one profound insanity of man
his folly of follies…

blessed as he is with the miracle of life
and shrouded by eternity itself
he appeared as if by magic, summoned by some unseen host
his life a fleeting moment, a flash of an eye,
and destined to return to the void from which he arrived
his life an inescapable journey from void to void
yet his existence an exquisite diamond in a dark mine
as if a star itself in the night sky

surely this would be enough for a joyous celebration!

but no…his folly is thus

upon arrival, he develops amnesia
and simply forgets his eternal home
a veil is drawn upon his eyes
and he is bedeviled
tormented by his own mind
he sees an enemy through his eyes
and he hears whispers in the night
he seeks power and plenty
and imagines he is immortal
he is like a madman
lost in his insanity
deranged and deluded

i too was blind
and then, through a grace that was bestowed upon me,
i began to remember
at first it was just a glimpse
but now an abiding state
a remembrance of where i came from
and where i return to
and the miracle that is happening
every moment of every day
even in the darkest moments

there are times when i think
this must be some kind of game
of forgetting and remembering
and the very meaning of this life is
wrapped around these two poles

to awaken from the dream
is the only true purpose

between a rock and a soft place

in my most silent moments
of quiet reflection
i see a life passing in a flash
always just out of reach

some dreams lie shattered
on the floor
and others hang emblazoned
upon the wall
the majesty of brokenness fixes everything

and now it all melts into the same ocean

somewhere between
resignation and acceptance
is where i live
i don’t struggle to swim
no longer concerned with being anything
or anyone
no illusion of anything but this
tender bitter sweet
unfathomable and fleeting

the union we seek is always here
the love we yearn for never left us
we never left the garden
it was just a thought
a momentary lapse of gratitude

only love is real.