WHISPERINGS FROM THE REDWOOD VIRGINS

I recently camped a few nights in the Avenue of the Giants, Humboldt Redwoods State Park, which has the largest remaining stand of virgin redwoods on the planet. In the middle of the night I woke, and this came to me. It is unedited, as most of my poetry you see will be. May we hear in our hearts, for this is way beyond minds, what these oldest beings whisper:

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Go in before “being.”
There is nothing to understand or explain.
No thing to think about, no thinker.
No doorways, no paths, neither future nor past.
No light and no dark, no movement nor stillness.
No hot and no cold.
Awareness with no direction, and no conception.
And now … we drop the “no.” And also … the “now.”
And the …
If you are still thinking,
no one has failed,
for no one was here in the first place, and no one has heard these words, either.
And finally … TRUTH DOES NOT EXIST.
Jump this hurdle.
There is no holy grail when holiness Itself exists.

Nothing is sacred, nothing profane;
here she goes with this “no” again!
For what is undeniable,
has always, only, been … “YES!”
“YES!” in the silence as the crickets chirp,
“YES!” in the night sky as it gives birth to dawn.
The never ending story begins again
from all HOLLOWS PT.

Get swallowed by Life!
You have no idea.
Nothing … something … everything.
Repeat.
Nothing … something … everything.
Can this all Be?

Go in before “being,”
and wander, until you are lost.