Osmans bad day

Osmans bad day

For hundreds of kilometers in any direction lie tribal lands, proceed with caution ! Bare earth everywhere, its soil blowing off with the wind. Sterile have become the seeds, except for those that grow into weeds. Animals eating all that grows. Not a drop of water to be found anywhere. Everywhere you go, fierce aboriginals will impede your advance. Halt ! What colour is your blood ? What religion do you wear ?

The colour of my blood not that of mud. Nor blue nor green nor even red it would seem. Its colour the space between spheres or between sounds. The space between objects and the space between spaces. The colour of the wind that moves no-thing around. So too what rags for this body to don and to drape. Indeed nothing, nothing will do. Nothing that will flap and flop and resist the true breeze. For all will fail and fall and rest on the earths endless ground.

Marching off into the humpy hills and sandy lands. Marching under the starry twilight sky. Sometimes following the brown road. Treading the dust left behind of footprints past. Sometimes following the grey way. Precipitous passage leads along mountainsides steep slopes, high into the sky. To either side, to all who fall, terrible tragedies. But beneath our feet the great rock presses up, holding firmly our sway. But then there is the great grand way, the ultimate audacity. Stepping-out into the trackless tract. Beyond colour and form, it reflects all scenery, its direction reveals itself only from moment to moment. No-one to guide us on our way, for no-one else has navigated this exact path. There is of all things, only this here. Wherever we find ourselves, always there.

The wind blows, the great cloud of dust swirls around, on all things it settles down. In the air that we breathe in the water that we drink. In the way that we feel and the way that we think. A great storm at the far end of the day. The gates of hell burst open and all manner of awful things fly out. Fly out and about and settle on and in all cool things. So too the gates of heaven open up and the good and good-for-nothing are all pushed out from their placid palaces. Show everyone the original face, the true and proper place.

The sky takes on two shades. Through the empty part light streams unto all that care. Gentle warmth settles everywhere. But passing here and there, restless dark clouds make their way. Looking for a place to stop, to rest and to stay. Damp their breath, cold their touch and all beings feel their presence. With this pressure, which of our many faces will take the helm and set our course. The face that has felt the sharp edge and seen all things, or the face of shadows day. The ox the snake the cat the dragon or the rat. The stars jiggle their way through the sky and the answer appears in our eye. The snake it will be on this dire day.

Falling from dark clouds the snakes land and slither off here and there. In amongst the grasses and weeds, into water and into people all over everywhere. Only the rock of ages they cannot pass through. The one thing they cannot affect. Soaking instead into all the separate things. Those who will offer them a home, who will set them at rest. But who will set their hearts at peace. Only the great dragons roaming in the vast sky. Amongst the space and the clouds, moving everywhere at their ease.

The asps falling, the great dragons flying about, the hapless humans sallying forth into life. Into the territory of the human condition. Into the tangled tract of the heart. Until no longer resisting the winds of life. Until finally finding the junction where all hearts meet.

Falling into the heart of hearts, then taking it with us as we go. Taking it with us, never leaving it behind. Always finding in it perfect counsel. Not straying, never leaving its boundless confines. Moving with the wind. Moving in stillness. Moving on though there is no place to go.

Moving on until one encounters forest and jungle. Through dense darkness and tangles of thick growth. Pushing away vines and creepers hanging from trees, and snakes hanging from vines and creepers and trees. Trudging through swampiness and mush and fantabulous fungi. Shadows skitter about, seen from the corner of the travellers eye. Passing here through the jungle of their mind. Shadows skittering out from the travellers mind. Such is this, treading this dense path.

Moving on through jagged cities. All painted in droll shades of grey, painted with twinkling lights to attract their prey. Hallucinatory walkways of mirror, angle and plane. Black puddles lie there unwanted unclaimed. Here everyone knows, but we will tell you here now. The water here is less than its original goodness. Gone is its freshness. Gone its ability to give life. The city has taken it away.

Moving in the great ocean of waves. Turning the vessels rudder towards the hearts desire, our boat follows exactly the currents course. The great current moves so subtly. Unstoppable its momentum, riding it seems like sitting still. Moving along surrounded only by placid calm. Surely the clear space. Endless the run of the waves, each passes on its way. The vessel bobs about a bit and returns to its happy journey.

To all populations across the planet, the snakes get in the heart and in the head. Creating havoc and confusion, writhing around and around. Squirming and sliming in stillness space. In the heart in the pants in the head, they bring grief to all extremities. Carrying about a load of snakes, there is no place to go that is free of snakes.

Turning life to take harmonies way. The snakes leave. Lifes wind turns and blows bees into the brain. Busy busy buzzing bees. Bouncing around the brains belfry. Then it is elephants walking around the brains savannah. Anything they don't like they push away. Then swans gliding about in the hearts swampy marshes. Two swans facing together form loves happy heart. Romance on the floods spillway. But lifes story a different shade of rosy red in their territory.

The snakes the bees the elephants the swans and all other things.All appearing all over. Appearing in the scenery before the eyes, appearing in the scenery behind the eyes. Behind the shirt behind all the slushy parts of this bag of skin.

The snakes scenery pushes forward. In situations such as this it is no good to fight nor wise to resist. Standing on one spot letting the wheel turn, difficulties swing away and pass us by. Passing straight through they meet no obstacle. Passing straight through with kindly assistance on its way. Turning and returning to the junction of minds, the place where all hearts meet. At home in the heart of hearts. The place where no dust gathers.

Amongst the snakes and the bees slowing to a standstill. They hum and hiss and buzz busily. Slowly relaxing and finding the true place. Balanced on the needles point. Then opening all the doors and falling on in. Falling into whatever situation calls my name. Feeling all parts fall onto the edges sharp way. Falling onto the sharp edge of the way.

The dust of the world settles around us and we stand – shoulders sinking down. Watching the gentle rain floating around. It falls from the sky, from the heart and from the eyes. Where it lands no dust will rise.

Beside a pond of water the corpse of a man gone died dead. Drunk the wrong water and was sick in his bed. The old rishis would always say that the great person could drink a mixture of poison and milk, and separate out each of them. Separate the two and drink the milk only. But not this poor unfortunate soul. Drunk the poison and passed it on to others. Others whom he would woo. Amongst the hordes walking in vortexes, following whomsoever happened to be in front. Vortexes within vortexes within vortexes. It has been going on for too long, time now for it to stop.

Drinking it deep. Swilling them together. Mixing their contradictory flavours, then spitting it all out. Spitting out the big gob of horrid poison. Doing it now – there is no purpose in waiting for a better moment in which to live. Some will live and some will die. All will live and all will die. Before dying all will live. After living all will die. This is how it is. All will pass and all will sigh. This is how it is. Some will laugh and some will cry.