Nora’s Row The Boat

Stills of the movie and the sequence is shot by my 2.5 years old niece Nora. I have edited it by Vimady app on my phone and added the song that we usually sing together on my voice this time. You can see little Nora’s posture at the end of the movie. The movie shows her view of a Turkish coffee family chat scene and a traditional home setting on a peaceful noon.

A gift by Nora.
a message from what we in mundane life perception call the future even though time is mostly literally made of transparent points . This video has been made through a collaboration of aunt and niece not necessarily at the same perception of plane of time . like a time machine

Here is a poem and a Tale for Nora for her gift:

The way you picked my phone and walked dancingly through our talks seemingly mundane but tailored well to properly fit to a daily Turkish coffee ritual is mantra.
Ingenious is the way you succeed to reset my memory about guarding my phone
while synchronously maintaining an opposite: my deepest trust towards your handling the device precise to accomplish our appointed purpose
With the physical ability of your 2.5 years old being because of which you’d document the best version of this everlasting movie
but also the understanding of the flow of time about its whirling circularity pinponting sound in vacuity was the path you drew during shooting this movie sequence
Moving knowingly the gaps of silence as if for your leaps that could hide you not to distract our chat
Well through us and the living room
Your intuitive technique is a shared intelligence in the usage of this unique pausless machine called emanation in its totality
dancingly through
as the very manifestation of you as the goddess of this formula, knowing of the formula not as an other is the Self bowing the Self is the conqueror of time. Making a secret agreement from our future to shoot a movie in the past with me hidden from our assumed roles as aunt and niece in our assumed perception of time is the cooperation to be able to set up the perfect scenario of a movie in fluidity and transparency of time and dance of space of all knowing staging the movement of the camera is naturally of your age
Using this as a part of the mastery you have made a best of the best. Best not as an empty complement or word of convention but mathematical beauty or the Shape of integrity crossing space and time.

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The unwritten poem

The color of the dance
of that fair goddess
Painting skies
Moving heavenly bodies
for the senses
of those
Assuming
the everpresent coolness
of flow of the space
made by the alluring smell
of the branches of the pine
Reflects
immaculate greens
stemming from the lustre
of the delight in your eyes

which I have met the other day in a dream

Curled by
a momentary condensation
of crystalline droplets
that tap
earth surfaces
to compose a lure
of the divine flow

Her smile

glows
and lifts the universe
from where
it synchronously expands

Expands as if!

and knits
the mesh
made of globules
of knots of light
of bliss

Skin of all
Pervading skin

and she emanates (in all)
from touch
– an inhalation
oozing
from the awareness of the meeting point of all lines

Sheltering all color

like the shelter of all storms

is by the wisdom of being all storms

in the form of the lotus of the heart

by which you celebrate now
as the sky sinks into yourHead

and I Lose the ‘me’
dressed by dreams of you
in your eternal dream of love

I wake up
in the lightness
of your turbulent presence
dashing
the gateless gate
between what we used to call
reality and dream

and wait

Wait to receive the omen
in the unstruck beat of one meditation

to read
re read
your love poem

the unending one

I am no thing but the sound of the letters read by all lovers now

Lovers being the One
Love stories being the One

where one plus one finally makes One

I wake up saying:
“I thought it was just Just a dream!”

Written on the 4th of July, 2018 for The HYMN: Song of the Soul

because of my inspiration of the author of the ‘The HYMN: Song of the Soul’

which is a gift to receive and a revelation of love
I had indeed a dream the night before I read the Hymn so I was waiting
There are no miracles but being – Being Just – what more is a miracle than Being is one

I read the Hymn in one go breathless and already at the first line I knew who the author is and for whom the book is written ♡

Check this beautiful & free book:
https://www.instagram.com/the_hymn/

 

 

The unspeakable

When you think of me is when I think of you is made of love only and received immediately and perpetually without any delay/space/gap/words because in love mind is the same Heart is the same and One
When you think of me is when I think of you is made of #love only dissolving seasons and landscapes Making worlds transparent Stitching time with patterns of residues
for yoga only
Only yoga converts these stitches to flower fractals gifted to the dance of the wind
The wind that reflects the fractal flowers as clouds that will rain rain
for Satya
When you think of me is when I think of you is made of love only and so I can see you when I want in a shape through which I sense you are watching me but a shape is a concession only
because then you are everywhere if this is to be assigned to a place
because then you are everything if this is to be assigned to a thing
When you think of me is when I think of you is made of #love only but ‘to think’ is not how i can describe such recognition in reality
You is a sparkle landing from a crest to the heart that converts to a white flower that reflects all color as gapless creativity …
You is a dream that makes all a dream inseparable from truth
You is a thought that stops all thought

You is not something to be continued
You is not silence not any stillness could describe
You
And still
You is all that

The unspeakable

The sequence knows itself

effortlessly unfolds itself by itself

Likewise
Life happens according to spiritual readiness 

All experience is asana
The world All inclusive
A body

and Life
A reflection on a fluidish surface
Made of the stuff Self is made of

and Life
An exploration
Dissolving its goal to itself

As there cannot be a goal between I and I (the self)
.

Image: meditative sketch with color pencil . Second and third images are versions of the mirror filter applied on the first and they amaze me somehow