Far away

by Luc Sala 
born Dec.13, 1949 
Leiden, The Netherlands

22:20 pm

fd 04lucFiredance 2004


Who got the fire in

Who made the dance begin

Who was that liar

Who stole the fire

It was Prometheus

And heís in all of us


Who dared the mighty Zeus

And gave us fire to use

Who was that Titan

Who traited Gods for Man

It was Prometheus

And heís in all of us††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††



by Luc Sala '95-2004

My poetry in Dutch: Nederlandse gedichten

The following thoughts came to me, travelling all over the world and of course inspired by my friends.




I don't need another prison

reminding me of my failures

but if we can break down

the prisons inside

a new day


just now


Who am I but my friends in me
Who are they but the Friend in me.
Then what about my enemy?
Who is he?
Who is she?
in me?


Orange Sun Summer
Do you feel the universe flex its muscle
Do you listen to the skies?
Ten Thousand Seals died
Cattle perish in Mongolia
Rain on Ayer's Rock
Crops in Rumania gone
Afghanistan suffers extreme drought
Hunger for millions in India

Do you listen?
Do you feel the power grids stressing

Nobody seems to notice
The newsreader doesn't blink, his prompter roll on
Nasdaq rules
micro-payment is the new hype
the New Economy is the snake oil
Bits rule, e-love hypnotizes
Internet only gives what you ask for
no grace, no mercy

And nobody looks up
heeds the suns warning
sees the dark shadows of time
for this or the next cycle
twothousand-twelve lurks
is this the last call?

orange sun summer
soccer rules
hooligans instead of witches
the magic still works

the color is gone
we lost
heaven wins

orange sun summer

(about the hot summer of 2000) 

Wisdom is not knowing

How can it be found in the world

How can it not be found in the world

How can it be given

How can it be received

as it is

Knowing wants to be free

a connection in the soul

no separation

no knowers, no known

just stillness

not of the mind

but of the heart of hearts

the stone one,

inscribed by the Gods we meet in others

For wisdom is not knowing

not knowing is love

feeling the truth

I am only different

as I have not yet learnt

to be the same



Mannheim 94




Out of love

Out of control

Out of self

Maybe in touch

with the other

so deeply imprinted

a chance to meet

the Dark One

who is




Incantation to the moon
Come out in the light
own your darkness
own your anger
own your sadness
own your joy
own your reflections
show me your soul
then speak and be my truth
come live and be my love
alive, forever young
a life, forever new


Fighting the holy fight
loving the holy love
tripping the holy trip
How can we doubt
that there is direction
that our guidance is guided
that our struggle is worth it
even when
doubting the holy doubt
sinning the holy sin
and living the unholy life



Love at armís length

For those who don't know

For those that don't feel

For those who are not

Them I can love




Is there a place to go, a time to be, a God to see
in us
Is there a song to sing, a heart to feel, a child to heal
in us
Being still to listen
to the world
in us
We can hear the echos
of the soul, the heart, the child, the song, the God
in us


Mount Tamalpais
Between me and the mountain
only God knows
how much I need him
The mountain is but another mirror
of the same longing
equally unable to express itself
but in the being, praising out loud, silently.
Between me and the mountain
only God to enjoy


Wounded Heart

God, when I feel different

when I feel better

when I feel wiser

just know that then I need your grace

So remind me,

that the grass grows

and the sun shines

and my wounded heart fights dirty



You like the Indian chief in me

his strength, wisdom, posture

However, the real task of a chief is to carry, to lead in not leading

to be of service

so who is it you are longing for inside

you are the chief

I am just holding the mirror

so you can see the thousand faces

of yourself

in me


Long Trips
When the car becomes a cell
a moving prison or a monastery
we have but two choices
a trance hibernation
warm and safe
feeling at home
or being in the moment
alert and engaging
feeling in the world
both can lead to insight
and liberate the soul
to do its service work on the mind
and sometimes on the body


Icy Roads
It's not the ice that worries me
it's the un-complacency
the sudden danger
the unexpected bends
the surprising changes
like moving snow, the sun in my face
a frightening intrusion
into my trance




Planning life is like planning love
not a game
I am even supposed to master
Being played
is all there is
following the cues
as far as I can hear them
Grace is to see joy and pride and bliss in that.



Missing the point
What a stupid thing to do
To contract a love
to find the counterpart
to our mind's needs
to our machine's games
to our body's programming
not waiting for Heaven's cues
What a stupid way to go
but do we have a choice
we better love the soul
look for the flame within
But then, the machine is all we have
most of the time.




In stating the goals of life
one can make endless list
about dreams of happiness
and the pursuit of wisdom
In the end
one is only left with humbleness
and the being in soul
Nothing exceeds living in the shadow of God's love.


A House
Cleaning up, clearing out, burning sage
For what, this messy rage
A house is not a home until we rest our case.
Our soul is not our own until we stop the chase
A home is a metaphor, not for the soul, but its
uncovering, the finding of the self.




Growing is more and less than change
Accept and see and feel the comfort of perfection
in the evolving process,
taking away the stubling blocks
by accepting what is
matching our real needs
making the enemy inside our dearest friend

Life is more than love,
but is then love less than life?
My answer is that the one
cannot be without the other,
and both are part of the celestial unity.

What was under the stars
not a timebound itch of the soul
As it was, it is.

The now expanded friendship felt as destiny
The Friend in us awakened.
You, me, there is no goodbye,
just the happiness
and gratefulness
of the now.




O, God, how far do I have to go
to grasp the closeness of your heart in mine
How deep do I have to probe and search
to feel the perfection of your body in mine
How hard do I have to beat the drums
before I hear your music in my ears
Yet you are in the going, searching and drumming
so your grace is with me



To have or to be
To make or buy
To create or accept
To invent or open up to
To shift or be shifted
The choice seems ours
Magus or mystic
Earth or heaven
Man or angel
Who are we to guess the face of God.



Love's Route
The steps on love's ladder
don't feel too smooth
there is no way of telling
how far I have come
It isn't even sure
whether it goes up to heaven
or down to hell
I stumble on
Will someone please
take me by the hand
and pretend, even for a short while
to know the next step.


The clouds, so full with rain
play joyfull with the sun
their game of light is not for me
but for itself
and thus for all of us
I watch and feel
the tyranny of change
so far away, so utterly beyond.
Those clouds
are maybe just the hands of God
his game of light
for them and thus for all of me
The blue sky is in all of us
These clouds of separation
are they so different?




Is there direction
or do we just follow the river of life
as it runs its course
Can we paddle a little
or can we just look back
and realise
the wake of our boat
was inevitable anyway
It never goes against the current
The lesson is,
whatever we do
we cannot go against the stream

People, ideas, inventions
aren't they like the strands of a rope
what seems new or bright or special
is nothing but another twine surfacing
each in turn showing itself
The connectedness of the rope
gives the meaning
The spirit flows in all
no less in the ones inside
All are essential.




There are inspirations in the mind
fruits of the soul
waves of the heart
too light to be put in words
too heavy to escape
but for Him to hear
to take back
what is His.


To die for the light
The secret of life is death
it has many names
it carries many fears
it comes in many forms
the sacred one is to surrender
to lighten the light
in dying for it
for the secret of death is life




Give me the grace of simple happiness
where the joy of being
does not transcend
the beauty of the mountain
the smile of the flowers
and the gentle breeze
where the now of love
doesn't outgrow
the beat of my heart
the reach of my hands
and the sweetness
of finding You
in my company

The meeting of minds
bears in itself
the fruits of compassion
in accepting the other
The meeting of souls
is love and passion
I have yet to learn
the distinction.




We start out accepting
then discover our power
are tricked into fooling
the world and ourselves
enjoying the feeling
until grace halts us.
And if we care to look back
we end in accepting.


This plane or living now is not only the base
This life should be the culmination,
When the self comes full circle,
recognizes and greets its old friends,
the mountain that is a mountain again,
the man that is man,
the I am that I am,
the depths of our soul are but shadows of this beauty
showing itself in the moment, now.



Time is a mortal thing
I wander
seeking the truth in my soul
staggering and falling
the miracle is always one step away
one inner door only leads to the next one
the unfolding directedness
becomes manifest when looking back,
love only admitted in the rear mirror.
Is the path really heaven?
I wonder, maybe I live the wrong way around

There is no control over what truly matters
reality seems flexible
the rocks of life, however
are hard to move.
All I can do
is to see them as stepping stones
pushing them forth costs more energy
and if they move
how can we be sure about the mover?




If God is infinite
without and within
the alef alef and the smallest physical uncertainty
who is then the fool
separating me from Him
the wise in me
has to learn to play that fool
if I want to be
beyond the becoming
the transfinite ego

Future Lights

What holds us in its hands
Is future, past and present
at a moments notice
our light is gone
our flame blown out
But even then there is hope
we hold it in our hearts
we can lighten the light
from within

Silken elegance

I like your ease

your silken elegance

your soft moves

But I love

your smell of sweat

your stink of fear

your body's anger

as they remind me of me

and the love I hide

by all means

but comes out through the cracks

Amsterdam June '94

The reality temple

I am told by many

My body is a temple

a house for the soul

that deserves to be honoured

But then the world

is also a temple

to be honoured and cared for

because it houses my soul

like a shell




Visualisation Stress
Reaching in for the light
scanning the inside of the eye
the wanderings of the mind
to no avail.
There is no great inner theatre
no grandioso visions
this seems not given to me.
I feel locked out
limited to eye-sight.
this makes the world outside my heaven.
My destiny is shaping it,
walking the straight road
no straying off to secret dreams.
Reality is my thing
reaching out for the light



Looking down from their unmoving stands
Creatures with long lifes and little space
not organized and yet structured
empires in themselves, tremendous energies
slow in the moving, stable in consciousness
touching us in timeless moments
Mountains are, and planets,
humans not, the soul maybe



I feel so far away

So out of place

So dark

Hold your words

Hold your invitation

just share your cold hands

maybe they will warm

my soul


Don't talk

Don't think

Don't move

just go your way



Mannheim june '94

There is no way
no sun or moonlit path
no daylight pass
that leads to the escape of self
for the self travels with me
then why is it so hard to enjoy the journey
as it is in such good Company
all the way.


Being Home
It is not the hectic love
It is the melting of your eyes
The easy opening of your soul
It's when you share your cold hands.
And this that other kind of love
that you called God
in us
And so you honor me
with you


7 temples

Our journey takes us to many places

And there are many temples

The double helix of our DNA

Our mothers womb

Our body

Our house

The earth

The cosmos

and then the secret one, the temple we can build inside, the unseen one, arising from our imagination, our dreams, the one that no-one can take away.




Little Light
When you have the gift
to accept the energy of others
your path will always be lighted

The art of living gracefully
is not in being at the right time and the right place
because we are.
The art of living graceously
is not in the trying
because it is granted.




A city
too young to live
or feel the heat of hell
in cleanliness and rigid order
divided up by empty spaces and streams of bikes
A city
too old to die
or lose the love of heaven


Holiness beyond words or matter
The ones high up and those far down
share the one path
and embrace the symbol
All against repression
and in the name of freedom.
My question remains:
What freedom at what price?
Happiness beyond ideology or arms
has no need for direction.



Coming down to the blue light
from the sacred highs
the town is embracing
full of generous warmth
Emerged from the waters
of unconscious knowing,
there is no order, just friendly acceptance
Here the head and the belly meet
in peacefull chaos of the heart
This is living the God within
in the Golden light
of the One
who sees

When tears of happiness
are fighting the smile within
the moon of my body
pushes the sun around me
and the Friend speaks.


But then, darkness comes

loosing the touch, there is the dry sobbing of my soul,
alone in an ocean of separation.

Frantically trying to be
like the water in the water
like the octopus
in fluid friendship to my world


I am lost in the vast universe

Where is the Friend




Sex and love
There is no separation
between the two,
if one embraces the defenses
so close to us
so dear to us
and yet
keeping us away from ourselves.
Sometime I can laugh at the difference
sometimes I am obssessed by it.
I become myself
when I can feel it as the eternal breathing
of the universe in me.

The sound of the universe
is like the clapping of one hand
you only have to listen
and if you can't hear it,
think about what the other hand is doing
and try to discern
what is not the universe.
The paradox dissolves in unity.



On the highway of life
some are with you for only a short time,
maybe till the next exit
others are with you for a long stretch.
We all move,
in the same direction
and we all arrive.


Sad Eyes
Is there an ocean
deeper than your eyes
are there shores
more beautifull
even when the tides of time
have left their traces,
honoring you
for what you have seen



License to Love
Do you need recommendations
a list of celebrity appraisals
signed endorsements
and my measurements
or can you just take the risk
and accept.
There is no certain outcome
but if you never play
you always loose.


Death is when we remember that we're not alone
And so is life
And love



Take my love
when I am not looking
as giving it
is too painfull

People, friends, enemies
Flowers in the garden
Showing their colors
Not the same
Not all the time
Not all so bright
But together a full bouquet
Do I care about their roots
Do I care where they came from
or where they are going




Little moments
A hand, a little music
a pause in our seeing
a pause in our being
only remembered
when it is too late
to forget about time.


Heaven and Hell
in honor of the Cathar faith

We are blind to God's love
so curse thou Devil
for giving us eyes.
We are deaf to God's breath
so Evil One why give us ears.
May the sacrament of union
the force in our hand
bridge the gap
and console and heal us



We are all Gods
We are all Life
but some of us
have the honour of hiding it
as we need Devils
as we need death
to see the One

Love is the fire
Love is the sword
Ironhard and bittersharp
Whoever gave the sword needs a clean cut
Love is not whatever we want it to be
It is beyond the name
and without the edge



The game of no games
I hate you and I want you.
No easy mellowing
a constant struggle
your image against my words
my lies and your excuses.
The game of no games
just a lie to play
one level deeper.
The endless staircase made visible
deep patterns emerging.
It frightens me, I want to run
I can't stand the bedrock breaking
trusting to mine the deep.
We are in such a need to love ourselves
but willing to compromise in loving you
I hate you and I want me


Digital Devil
That damned computer
I want to shoot her
Holding my data
She took my heart
But I can't erase her




Sam's koan
Who let the sun in

The Arabic Chazi A. Algosaibi wrote beautiful poems, he inspired me to:


I traveled
Is there a place more restful
than your heart
A destination further
than the far stars in your eyes
greeting the weary traveller
rejected by all harbours
seeking a trusting refuge

I traveled
Followed beauty faces
enhanced by art, and always
smiling smiles that never
did snare happiness.
Your face no longer innocent
reflects my sadnes, hunger, fear
Is there a place more lovely
than the endless mind-sky

I traveled
Met philosphers;
spent nights dissecting life
reviewing mysteries
Yet, for what reason
As your mind has tackled
the unknown riddles, claimed old wisdom
it knows good and evil
without the pointing words



Another poem, inspired by Algosaibi:

One and two
When I am with you
We become what we both know
and face the sun, the moon, the light
accept and be accepted
by glorious grace
A miracle of nowness
we feel, we live our place
to honour God in either form.


Maha Kumb Sangam
the battlefield of belonging

We walked
to wash our souls, to shed our sins, to sense our kinship
We came
to where the rivers join
in sangam,
in simple unity
rivers of holy water
rivers of eternal souls
10 million of us, maybe more
in simple devotion
the holy dip
Doing samgam, being sangam
the Ganges as a surprisingly cold door
to being at one
a simple sacrament
flesh and water
the crowd feels like one
the black naga tongue of the serpent
freed by the police polo-game
reaching out, at the auspicious moment
shivering cold in naked holiness
chaos outside, love touched, order inside
the Lord's immanence
in the coloured crowd
the misty red rising sun
in the eye of the beggar
so simple
It touched me
like an inescapable truth
just creation manifest
Brahma's grace
and Krishna as my simple charioteer
Honda driven

Alahabad Kumb Mela India jan 29, 2001





September 11th

Back to feodality!

Shiny flyers in a clear sky
Our proud birds of righteousness
Saintly driven onto the pillars of power
At the heart of the bull market
Where money bred money

Holy smoke, no virtual movie inferno
But real people, real disaster
It lurks in the corners of our mind
Haunts our dreams

Twin towers
Portals to hell
Gates to heaven
The symbol of death
And of renewal
Of war and peace
And of a faint new hope

The feudal Lords dance
Around the table of peace
With al Jazeera
As their mouthpiece
Rattling their gear
Throwing their spells
Showing their deaths
An eye for an eye
Proportional killing
Bin for Bin too?

The new Warlords preach
And whisper and lie
Hypnotic procedures
Controlled penetration
Of our minds
Do you need proof or
Are we believers?

We live the new symbolism
Tarot towers
Atomic signposts
The green altar of Mammon
Birds of doom
The white anthrax coke
Big brother Goliath
And bin David on the run


lucsasha04with Sasha Shulgin



The Hindu wisdom says
Find out what is not self
To uncover the self
Sacrifice and fire is their way
Of talking to the gods
Agni is their gate to heaven

So this question haunts me
Who prayed so loud
Through the twin tower inferno
And to what god

Or was it done
For us?

Who staged this great appeal
This Grandioso bloody ritual
A holy sacrifice
Of human flesh

For us or for God
A call to battle

Awakened when it rained people
Twin towers toppled
Horror and disbelief
The movies in real time

Beyond anger, beyond adrenalin
there grew wonder
Zooming out to the wider picture
I feel called upon

A reminder to see
That good and evil
Are in all

Who thinks we
Do you?
And to what NOT we
You see?

Magic returns, the ceremony has only just started!

The new heroes:

Who thinks we?
Does Bin?
Does Bush?
Do you

Who thinks we?
And how about the NOT WE
Us and them
US and them
The faithful and the infidels

Who thinks we?
We, the world, the wider we
The total we
Who sings that we
Who walks that we

Do you

Do we?





On the Bus
Kesey, Kerouac, Leary, Ginsberg, Grootveld
We made them giants of freedom
Heroes of the new love, symbols of lost paradise
Be here now was Ramís battle cry
Which brings up the Haight, the Park, the sixties, het Lieverdje and the Bus

Ken ruled, on the bus, off the bus
You were in or out
Today, being on the bus is not about acid, 
Itís about the road to Kabul, the road to Baghdad
Itís about standing up against the Bushfire of fear, 
Against the phoney war on terror, the new imperialism, the global righteousness 
Today, being on the bus means being there
(And I testify to Ramís change of hearth)
not only in Seattle, Amsterdam, Genoa
but being there for you
No hat, no rainbow colours, no slogans, just a smile will do for fare

Today, you, you rule about being on the bus
The bus of humanity, the bus of greater reality, the bus of inner glory
As we are love
And the faces of truth
Just as Ken and Tim, and Allen were,
We, we are on!

Luc Sala Amsterdam Jan. 4, 2003 Paradiso Ken Kesey memorial


Long life, little karma

A small piece of creation

Just a formless stone

No obstruction to the ways of the world

A nameless trail through time and this space

Only known to the One


I travel

Loose and light




Throw me in the ocean

Of your darkest mind

And I will wash ashore

In a new shade


My destiny and my longing is

To trip you in awareness

But you can also stumble on

To serve some more


You are welcome

Either way


Inspired byRD&Mís hottub

And a star from heaven

In the shadow of Mount TAM,

The temple of the sleeping goddess

Where pebbles are slowly born

From the fire into the light






















Morning, breaking the nightly fast

The flowers awaken

Dew for them, coffee for the rest of us

We share the light, the rising sun

The green, rejected by the trees and plants

Nurtures us, gives us what we miss in the sunís spectrum

The great game of nature unfolds

Do I care to understand

Or is understanding just another way of escaping

The joy of morning, in the garden


Groups (2010)

I hate groups
The invitation to gauge, the innate urge to judge
I know, itís just defense, unease, fear, hidden anger
but hey, itís a challenge too
not to judge
not to look for shortcomings
and enjoy
godís bouquet and the promise that

we is more than me

And start to belong


Smarter May 2012

Fear has led to anger

But as anger wasnít accepted either

I became smart, smarter, sensing the faults and shortcomings of all

A false security, that seemed to help me through life

Gave me power, wealth, insights, but cost me a lot.

Envy, hate, not belonging, being outside and finally the body kicked in

Trying to tell me, what I hid under the smartness

In not a nice way, immobilising me with pain at times

The deep message, that feeling and harmony is what my inner child wants

I have yet to embrace fully





††† ††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††2005 Firedance

Dancing around the Fire

I side with the small people, because that's all I can
I side with the small people, because that's what I am
I side with them, as they make the giant steps
that help me move an inch
I side with the small people, as they help me see
that we are but the shadows of our own light
I side with the small people, as they are my family
no service, no condescending help
Just circling and circling
paying our dues
to the fire, to life
in love





The temple of my inner fire
pril 2005
O lord, do I need your grace
I stand, in awe and fear
at the entrance of the holy place
I see the altar, feel the sacred
but sense the barriers, right in here
where armour, ego, doubt and hatred
prevent me from a lusty stride
to race towards the holy grail
I stand, only my eyes travel
my body frozen, my soul chained
O lord, help me move one feet
to start a journey of a thousand more
You got me here, I made it to the door
and even if you make me trip over this threshold
then at least I will move forward
Thou art my true love
helping to hold you in my heart
to include the world and all above
even me, the hardest one to love
so, help me kneel,
as being closer to the earth
will help me move towards to the fire
the inner joy and utter rapture
that I see before me
but cannot embrace, yet





In het Nederlands/in Dutch: Nederlandse gedichten

My website with articles, books etc.

The Heavenonearth website with an idea and activities to help build this heaven right here, right now.

Websites: www.net.info.nl, www.heavenonearth.nu, www.mobiel-info.nl, www.dealerinfo.nl, www.mindlift.nl, www.cans-rsi.nl

A poem worth reciting and for me a memory of an important mover and shaker, Allen Cohen of San Francisco Chronicle fame.

The Radiant White Dove
A Rap for the Spirit
by Allen Cohen


Like a radiant white dove,
like a butterfly flying home,
God is shaking.
God is waking inside of you.

It begins to move
around the first chakra
at the base of the spine -
red muladhara
touching the earth
It controls the body
and the material world,
as it manifests around us.

Like a radiant white dove,
like a butterfly flying home,
God is shaking.
God is waking inside of you.

The power enters
the second chakra,
svadhistana your own place
where you must live in the body.
Emotional & sexual balance
glowing orange

Like a radiant white dove,
like a butterfly flying home,
God is shaking.
God is waking inside of you.

Opening the third chakra
the jeweled city,
golden Manipura
Digestion and body organs
bring peace and service

Like a radiant white dove,
like a butterfly flying home,
God is shaking.
God is waking inside of you.

Through the forth chakra,
the unstruck sound,
green Anahata.
The heart's pure love,
healing becomes your power

Like a radiant white dove,
like a butterfly flying home,
God is shaking.
God is waking inside of you.

Rising to the fifth chakra,
the purified one,
blue vishudda.
The throat center
revealing nature's laws,
breath passes,
words sing truth

Like a radiant white dove,
like a butterfly flying home,
God is shaking.
God is waking inside of you.

The sixth chakra,
indigo Ajna, the third eye,
The creative vision
where spirits live

Like a radiant white dove,
like a butterfly flying home,
God is shaking.
God is waking inside of you.

The seventh chakra,
violet Sahasrara,
the thousand petal lotus
the nervous system hums
you see the one
The wisdom never leaves.

Like a radiant white dove,
like a butterfly flying home,
God is shaking.
God is waking inside of you.

©Allen Cohen