Dedicated to sharing expressions of conscious or higher love, through sacred poetry and inner reflections. In honoring and serving Love, we are serving Divinity and entering the realms of Eternal Truth. The Temple of Love is a place of serving Love through writings from the soul.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Only in Our Doing
Only in our doing can we grasp You
Only with our hands can we illuminate You
The mind is but our visitor
It thinks us out of our world.
Each mind fabricates itself
It sets its limits, for we have made them.
And just when we would flee them, You come
and make Yourself an offering.
I don't want to think a place for You
Speak to me from everywhere
Your gospel can be comprehended
without looking for its source
when I go towards You
it is with my whole life.
Rainer Marie Rilke
The Day Sky
Let us be like
Two falling stars in the day sky.
Let no one know of our sublime beauty
As we hold hands with God
And burn
Into a sacred existence that defies -
That surpasses
Every description of ecstasy
Monday, March 17, 2014
Compassionate Towards Yourself
“Simplicity, patience, compassion.
These three are your greatest treasures.
Simple in actions and thoughts, you return to the source of being.
Patient with both friends and enemies,
you accord with the way things are.
Compassionate toward yourself,
you reconcile all beings in the world."
Lao Tzu
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Break out of this Prison
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home.
This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
Rumi
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Am I a Falcon
I live my life in widening circles
that reach out across the world.
I may not complete this last one
but I give myself to it.
I circle around God, around the primordial tower.
I've been circling for thousands of years
and I still don't know: am I a falcon,
a storm, or a great song?
Rainer Marie Rilke
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Quietness
"Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall. Escape.
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color. Do it now.
You’re covered with thick cloud.
Slide out the side.
Die, and be quiet.
Quietness is the surest sign that you’ve died.
Your old life was a frantic running from silence.
The speechless full moon comes out now."
Rumi
Sunday, December 1, 2013
True Love
"Love is essentially self-communicative : those who do not have it catch it from those who have it.
Those who receive love from others cannot be its recipients without giving a response,
which, in itself, is the nature of Love.
True Love is unconquerable and irresistible.
It goes on gathering power and spreading itself until eventually it transforms everyone it touches."
~Meher Baba
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Love Itself
'Whether you have loved a human being or
whether you have loved God, if you have loved enough you will be brought in the
end into the presence of the supreme Love itself.'
Rumi
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Death of Beatrice
Beyond the sphere that circles most widely
passes the sigh that issues from my heart:
new intelligence, that Love
weeping instills within it, drives it upwards.
When it is near where it desires,
it sees a lady, who receives honour,
and is a light, that by its splendour
the pilgrim spirit can gaze upon her.
Seeing her such, when it says so to me,
I do not understand, it speaks so subtly
to the grieving heart, which makes it speak.
I know it speaks of that gentle one,
since it often mentions Beatrice,
so that I know it truly, ladies dear to me.
After writing this sonetto a miraculous vision appeared to me, in which I saw things which made me decide to write nothing more of this blessed one until such time as I could treat of her more worthily.
And to achieve this I study as much as I can, as she truly knows. So that, if it pleases Him by whom all things live, that my life lasts a few years, I hope to write of her what has never been written of any woman.
And then may it be pleasing to Him who is the Lord of courtesy, that my soul might go to see the glory of its lady, that is of that blessed Beatrice, who gloriously gazes on the face of Him qui est per omnia secula benedictus: who is blessed throughout all the ages.
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