Graffiting Rembrandt

Could all and any changes one wants to make to their self, or wish for another, or wish for this world! Could that not be (at some true theological height) graffiting Rembrandt?

That is, that seems such a big thought: that all is always perfect? Maybe a real Zen master who is sometimes midair on a butterfly wing and high-fiving everyone—and wildly laughing— knows that, and is thus beyond the gravity of any fears, darkness, or unkindness. Unkindness, I think that is getting pulled into a strange black hole.

I think I once got a high-five from someone who was an incognito Buddha, while living with him in India, so I get thoughts like this— and am now spray painting them to help pass the time.

I would bet God could say: I spray painted on my own body the moon, for fun; and the stars; and those mountains over there; and the beautiful singing birds; and the trees; and the tadpoles; and the goldfish; and whales; and you. You! Adore & applaud whatever you can!

And as Hafiz says:

Have fun my dear, my dears, have fun,

in the Beloved’s divine game. O, in

the Beloved’s wonderful, wild game! 

Hafiz, he can high-five ya, from midair in heaven— if you read some of his best poems slowly and out loud—if you let them make love to you. 

And would bet ya on this one too: that the best of Rumi’s & Hafiz’s poems can indeed make love to ya to such an extent you conceive, and can feel a sun & moon start to kick against your heart-womb; and a light come to your eyes and into your sounds, movements, and touch— that helps feed us. That helps feed us, with the manna of love we all can really offer.