Song of the white rose

My song is an eulogy to the wind
I only appear here by the touch of that wind
A thought made a jewel
By being the touch of the touch
Engendered by the ecstatic ambrosia of the wind
This appearance is always in some form
and ‘here’ is a pivot, a nucleus in which the wind appears so fiercely but only at this point to point at its silence made of our synchronous union, causeless.
Here has always been here
Taking shapes driven from the qualities of its essence.
A wholeness, an own world, whole in itself so one can hear it by being it,
by stepping into it : One is input
The daring one! One whose loving intention is output.
One sees therefore that there is absolutely no linear perception of time in here driven from non-dual embodiment of its algorithm unknown. Unknown but…
Step in to this nucleus just
Encircled by us you shall find the treasure hidden between two breaths
Labeless is the vision, seeing the light of the color
Through which one can travel
Seeing the color is hearing the color of the untouchability of its smell
but if you touch it just verbally the wind gets angry and maybe steals your glove
so that
by the memory of this occurrence which runs through the wooly pink
One can reflect and open the doors of the Gateless Gate

I am a goddess of shape of white
I am the daughter of the depth of dark
I am the granddaughter of the moon
I am the lover of the wind whose eyes are made of Skies
I do not appear in time
You can only see me through the eyes of me.

A spoken version and a video of the poem:


Below is a story of a romanticized version of my sentiment of the VR technology experience of the “Fugue” – title of a chapter within the exhibition ‘the Eternal Return’ by Lundahl & Seitl and ScanLAB Projects at STRP Festival:

She tenderly held my hand
knowing wordless the
subtle moments
I’d need guidance
while being led
towards skies

Standing on a
A multi dimensional realm
Made of light
Hanging in space

Following a sprinkling trace
of a most loving star
(I call it Subito now )
Dancing in tunes
of Bach’s fugue
Building a temporal path
of particles of light

Refuting before and after
Refuting time
by Being just

The pianist – a Goddess-
pauselessly plays
One with her piano
Both made of same light
Come to life by my touch
A divine coherence
and I can surrender
let go of weights (of labels) enough
to be lifted up
Up Up
and even higher up
A sudden sensation of disorienting invites the knowledge of asana to support and erase memory of vertigo etc. (of space, of time, of touch of otherness any worry for balance …Only by being all that )
Fearless is a nature
At the peak
of the mountain of all skies!
Ready to jump
from its crystal crest
with a silent
into the delight
this depth
That which you call
Nothingness is
of the Heart
because it is your own

Delightful is my friend ever patient, knowing, skillfully teaching by
insightful inspiration
Deeply loving Subito’s presence

Neither heights or depths
Nor big or small
I dive deep
in illuminated darkness
I am a giant now
the pianist a miniature
or maybe I am standing over a cloud
but who cares
Let both be – not mutually exclusive
Cause such calculations are not essential
I am – only is
Cause I am free

An apprehension
equivates to the harmony of the fugue Sound taking such miraculous and temporal shapes to dissolve again into a deep black
Until also the black dissolves with this experiencer into the Heart as if
nothing has ever happened .
Such is Life
Made of one breath
Suddenly I remember where I actually am and Tears rush into my eyes. A realization inviting time
soon I will have to leave this place something as if I have known like myself but this cry was not so much about -not willing to go- but more a cry of a sudden awakening after a long sleep… invigorated by this experience – of switching intensity of phenomenal realms…. Now inviting analysis on the experience of different worlds
of ‘this and that’ s –
by suggesting that both are as miraculous to the free .


Meeting place of Lovers 

A whisper of all knowledge beyond ears
is the meeting place of Lovers dating in the light of the simultaneity of our ceaseless being.

The sound of the embrace of Lovers is a Namaste shaping a love sign posing the world of this mother and father.

Our bodies – An effulgent  instrument
Made of this light- Plays – the symphony of illuminating light and dissolves in light

Image: digital photocollage


Drawing ink color pencil from 2015 – 31X24cm – Ink,watercolr, pencil,pastel on watercolor paper


I have become all love stories for you.

Carrying your ring made of the reflection of your eyes

A unique crystal forevermore
Reserving the soundless sound
Made of its form

With our union
in the heart of all
Victorious is now.

Sofa Legs

What is a day when you wake up in meditation
this body is inseparable from this light
and the mellowly blowing signless flag
singing only to one side
and the brown edge
nothing else than its edgeness

Skin having already freed itself from the weight bearing traces of the dust of my mind
capturing smooth
the light –
melting differences over the bumpless
recalling velvety longing

not for the sake of the material but
the freedom that has once recorded this twin light
long ago
on such surface

for its manifestation

bringing awareness about the tempter
on senses
and again imploding its imaginary cavities
on the touchless curves of a sofa
newly displaying the angle of
its wooden edge
drawing a perfect eighty five degree Invisible line
in space
towards the webless corner -just noticed-
where the eye gets relieved by its neatness
and relaxes
becoming the point of a trivalent stillness

This – the edgy- is a sister of these Sofa legs
Four in all

implying itself as a sexiest part of its couch –
couch of a type – as it says
owning each other
Like body and sense
in one posture
and in its remembered object name

and maybe ready to unfold memories Alas
if there would be openness to listen
or if I were what it could allure me to be for its charm

but No – it says nothing this time
mending time through fractals of its becoming my spaceless space
with the old radio set aside
never playing more than its silent tunes for those skaters in an etching of an ancient landscape hanging on the wall above since …
since before the internet age
showcasing a memory that nobody knows and can see or hear but smell maybe
beside a winter blossom
flourishing its inspiration

not understanding each other but requiring the same attention as my body does
or as the realization of a thought that I could not run up that hill as fast as that dog –

a dog being observed behind a glass and I am unsure if this observation could have effect on the style it puts to the run

or if my observation is being observed and that may be a reason of its action as such
as if it does so to show off – Really!
unknowing to who or what
and then again still …

AaaaaW !!!! Shut up!

No no no ! I should stop now

what may make a catch less of a catch
putting things of importance of a day on a scale of indifference
and then again what is this nosy urge
asking for order!?!

It is a play.

See ?!
even if you like it or not
I am in and such is
You yOU YoU

A play as true as the one watching
Same actually –
Same as the one watching

Watching or steeped in
Space in Space

No Space

non of these Things

A day remains
as the mind fades to embrace

(Like the day
rainbows are manifesting
from the heart
of this inspiration)