I heard the rumbling of the dragon
The rattling of the thunderseeds
In the box that’s shaken repeatedly
By a feminine hand.
The rattling of the thunderseeds
In the box that’s shaken repeatedly
By a feminine hand.
The unstruck sound is a Big Bang
The clap as in a clap of thunder,
Saying Da as per the Vast Forest Upanishad,
Or as my Japanese mechanic friend Arai would say remembering his childhood
The clap of the atomic blast in Hiroshima.
The clap as in a clap of thunder,
Saying Da as per the Vast Forest Upanishad,
Or as my Japanese mechanic friend Arai would say remembering his childhood
The clap of the atomic blast in Hiroshima.
Clap whose message the Isha Upanishad gives as
O Will remember, that which was done, remember!
Hakuin heard it as the sound of one hand clapping.
The Real-Idea of the Clap resounding through eternity
Within the beginningless and endless.
O Will remember, that which was done, remember!
Hakuin heard it as the sound of one hand clapping.
The Real-Idea of the Clap resounding through eternity
Within the beginningless and endless.
Clap as trace, the originary movement of differance,
Unity of the double movement of protension and retension.
Quantum clap, limiltless beyond time and space
Clap as the original clasp of Shiva and Shakti
The Two-in-One whose joining and separating
Is the creative play of the freedom of Being
Which is all there is in itself and in its Becoming(s).
Unity of the double movement of protension and retension.
Quantum clap, limiltless beyond time and space
Clap as the original clasp of Shiva and Shakti
The Two-in-One whose joining and separating
Is the creative play of the freedom of Being
Which is all there is in itself and in its Becoming(s).
And then I knew the delectable silence
The spirit goddess presence part aroma part face
She who pervades the starry moonlit night.
She is the self of the dragon.
Once seen she haunts the unconscious
And inspires towards superconscience.
The spirit goddess presence part aroma part face
She who pervades the starry moonlit night.
She is the self of the dragon.
Once seen she haunts the unconscious
And inspires towards superconscience.
The goddess of truth-audition and sound-creation
The one whose body is music
The one whose sounds become words and words become sounds perennially
She with the garland of letters, which is the garland of skulls
Each skull a fruit with a rattling seed
Repeating a sound and a space-pattern
Which she lends to the drum of Shiva.
The one whose body is music
The one whose sounds become words and words become sounds perennially
She with the garland of letters, which is the garland of skulls
Each skull a fruit with a rattling seed
Repeating a sound and a space-pattern
Which she lends to the drum of Shiva.
These are akshara, the indestructible purushas
That she dances with and scatters
Like so many extra-terrestrial seeds
To weave her galaxies and constellations of meaning
Her politics of grammatology and narratology
That harmonize to her freedom laughter
And form the grounds of her uncountable plays.
That she dances with and scatters
Like so many extra-terrestrial seeds
To weave her galaxies and constellations of meaning
Her politics of grammatology and narratology
That harmonize to her freedom laughter
And form the grounds of her uncountable plays.
Beyond all her describable properties and attributes
Her charm is mystic;
Morphing through many world cultures
And through remarkable modern synthetic minds
But remaining indescribable
Known only when experienced
Irreducible as the hard problem of consciousness.
Her charm is mystic;
Morphing through many world cultures
And through remarkable modern synthetic minds
But remaining indescribable
Known only when experienced
Irreducible as the hard problem of consciousness.
