Resting at the edge of a rock precipice, The light comes in, On dragon’s tooth To be alone And contemplate, A rare gift of time. The wind rushes through hair, But none must fear the edge, If one has learned to fly
Today is a cold and rainy day, i hope you are all doing ok and keeping warm.
God djing to the angels, in one of my visions. Lucidly ethereal and soul piercing music.
We think we know everything, the way the cosmos should be A lilting music starts And we are someplace else Only we are aware Of how powerful music is And God is.
Hair braided in white, Sitting in meditation. Our soul is within And in front of us Our chi is collected Shimmering in the colours Of the aurora borealis We disperse.
I am lighting sandalwood incense this morning. It very soothing and calm. I am grateful for it. It is good to meditate this morning. I hope you are all enjoying this cool autumn day and are well in all aspects of your being.
This year even though it is seventh month i cannot feel any ghosts, only light. In my earlier years i could feel a haunted atmosphere and ghosts coming and going and portals to the underworld. All that has closed now.
According to heavenly law i cannot light incense or make offerings to the dead. This year i had completely forgotten it was seventh month till i walked in the park, on the way back i noticed some offerings and it jolted my memory. I can light incense to meditate though. It is strange to feel this much in the light now. The invisible barriers are there. What i am allowed to do and what i am not. I sit here thinking of dead relatives, wishing them well and being at peace. Its the least i can do.
Seventh month is the month is Singapore where people remember the dead and give offerings. It is said that on the seventh lunar month, the gates of hell open and the ghosts are free to return and roam the earth. Also known as Zhong Yuan Jie 中元节.
This drawing is dedicated to my neighbour that sadly decided to leave this world at a young age.
I paste my artwork on the wall outside my house But you are not here to share it with me, when you walk down the corridor. Its the seventh month, but i can’t feel any ghosts, only light. I almost died But you actually died In all my years rooftopping i never fell. If it is a matter of luck, we could trade places. Maybe if my artwork had been on the wall sooner, we might have talked and said hello. I don’t understand, in my life i met so many people to help, But i didn’t know you. The Gods gave us different paths, even though we live on the same floor. Standing above a city of lights, I have landed. You have landed as well. Hopefully somewhere better. I will pray for you. This drawing is for us. You’re dead I’m alive. We can look at the lights of the city together From the floor we live on.
Wu wei, wu wei It is whispered to us gently. We have to let go, in order to kick We have to release, in order to achieve. Balance is perfect symmetry with the universe We are one, but in one-we are many.
A stroke of ink, Hair falling softly, Is it a mountain pass, Or a step, I stumble, A wave of black ocean, The road is long Even for immortals Only one’s light Can lead the way.
In the eaves of night, A full moon illuminates chance, A scroll unrolled, The words of life and death tumble and fall. God shines brighter than the moon, Walking soundlessly in a garden That no longer can be found Am i waiting for you Or are you waiting for me
Resting in each other’s arms, the God and Goddess aspect uniting under the chalice of life. Seated on wings, lifted by a blue aura of protection, concealed in the void.
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