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"All knowledge comes from the unfathomable depths of consciousness--depths unknown yet unexplored. Just as the water, bubbling on the clear surface of a spring, travels enormous subterranean distances before coming out into the open, so thought wells up from the immeasurable ocean of consciousness to find an outlet through the spring of the human mind."
Gopi Krishna - From the Unseen
This indwelling creative consciousness is natural to every one of us. Anyone who has opened themselves to this divine force and trusted its presence knows the power of surrender and the freedom of thought that it generates.
On this page, we invite you to share your experiences of expanded awareness and/or creative expression. These experiences may be in the form of spontaneous poetry or prose or art that is capable of reproduction on the web.
*While ICR welcomes all submissions it does not guarantee publication nor offer monetary compensation for submissions which are published. We reserve the right to edit submissions for length. You can submit your expressions by using the contact us page. Unfortunately we will not be able to return hard copy submissions.
Click here for file and graphic requirements.
BO YIN RA
 Space and Time
Bo Yin Râ (Joseph Anton Schneiderfranken, 1876 – 1943) was born in Aschaffenburg, near Frankfurt am Main, Germany. He was formally educated as a painter beginning with his enrollment at the Staedel Art Institute in Frankfurt am Main in 1892. After completing his education at the Staedel in 1899, he studied and worked in Vienna, Paris and Munich. He lived and painted in Greece in 1912 & 1913. It was during this time that he composed the first of his 40 books. His artistic legacy is comprised of some 200 works. A majority of his paintings' subjects are those of spiritual perspectives such as those shown here. Bo Yin Ra’s literary legacy addresses questions and concerns that pertain to "final things – the mysteries of mortal and eternal life, of God, the origin and goal of human existence". As the author explains, his books are meant to “be used as maps that guide the reader safely through the labyrinth of this existence to the goal that every spiritually conscious human being finally desires to attain”. More complete information about the artistic and literary works of Bo Yin Ra can be found at www.kober.com.
 Seeds of Future Worlds
To be able properly to judge realities within the Spirit’s timeless life requires that one know about the structure of that Spirit, whose very substance is eternal light. And all my books have as their foremost aim to open readers’ eyes to this mysterious structure, and to show them its profoundest depth. The unprejudiced examination of these books will thus provide the most reliable criterion not only for the true importance of their content, but also for the author’s right to say what he is saying.
- From In My Own Behalf
A human being’s daily life will only then gain lasting dignity and value when the individual recognizes that all one’s deeds create effects within the unseen realm of nature, whether one be conscious of that fact or not. Only then has one attained the highest form of earthly life, when all one’s thoughts, one’s words, and actions are determined by the knowledge of their consequences in the invisible domain of physical reality, and, further, by the knowledge that every impulse of our will produces its effect upon the spiritual substance of our own eternal self.
-Myth and Ceremonial Magic (pg. 106 in 1924 edition)
YVONNE MACOR
While I was working as a full time professional, I went through a lot of emotional and spiritual challenges. At a point when this was partly resolved, I was suddenly moved to write poetry. The first two poems are from many that flowed through me daily over a period of about 3 months, when I seemed possessed by poetic meter and rhyme. That creative energy subsided to only occasional poetry, and 2 years
later, stopped. A wonderful experience while it lasted, and the poems all spoke tome of my personal growth and spiritual evolution. I self-published poetry "chapbook" and an anthology of poetry written by friends in my spiritual family who had similar experiences - all a labour of love I felt deeply moved to do. Occasionally, some inspiration comes again... e.g. the third poem below.
Yvonne Macor,
Teacher and practitioner in yoga and ayurveda
ymacor@sympatico.ca
APRIL FIELD Yvonne Macor, 1994 (Published in Slowing Down to Peace, 1997)
The dead grasses stand tall
sway gold and bronze in April sun
arbors of snow and ice forgotten
still strong, straight, fluffed and proud
long out of season
Soon to crumple
they cling yet to the earth
Hidden at their feet
must be green shoots
struggling to break loose
from the warming ground
Shy tender fronds unfurling
pushed up by the fertile earth
through the mother thatch
they know not wither -
only the urge to grow, to stem, to bud
feeling roots in seed
in weepy ground, grateful
for the shelter of ancient structures
These dead hulls that overshadow
must capsize soon, disintegrate
before the vigor of what is born -
make space
for the green fields of tomorrow.
GRACE Yvonne Macor, 1994
(Published in Songs that Come Unbidden - In the Company of Truth, 1998).
Let Her come
like a deep swell in the ocean
Let Her come
like the soft gaze of a doe
Let Her be with me
Do not frighten
Watch gratefully
while She dances
Let Her be with me in the Silence
and the absence
of control
Give Her space and time
Get to know Her
Ask just how powerful She is
She'll slip right into
that place that hurts the most
She's the Mother's arms
like the cool sweet tears
on your cheeks
Let Her come and go
like a playful child
come and go
like a flame gone wild
She's the flow of life
like the flit of birds
'twixt the swaying seed spray
and the branches
Let Her go
Keep on breathing
Pray she may be here
when you need Her
when you do not know
Who you are.
A WAY BY TRAIN Yvonne Macor 2006
Frost veils the countryside
Pastel early morning
The train races by, leaving
No trace on the silence
A little green along the stream of love
That gathers and flits like the birds
In a line across blue sky I swallow
Gratitude flows from the grief
As the sun’s alchemy turns
Silver ground to gold
Now, the frost lies only in the shadows
My heart flows with feeling, new ways of being
Now pass grotesque forms – a factory
Mawling the landscape – choking and streaming
In several seconds the ugly business all passes
Big freight going the other way
The path is pierced through rock
We speed on in our own shadow
The car fills with sunlight
Flashing on the mirror ponds of surren
MURIEL FORD
 
“TRANSCENDENCE” by Muriel Ford, artist
Meditation being what I consider to be the best thing I’ve ever done for myself, it was only natural, as a painter to try to express my experiences.
In these recent coloured pencil drawings I have tried to show the feeling I have had (while transcendent during meditation) of having my mind suffused with light, which has replaced ordinary thoughts. The bottom one-third of each drawing is my visual idea of ordinary thought processes.
I had an experience described in the following haiku:
in meditation
a burst of colours
when the pigeon died
I thought this experience proved to me that when we transcend during meditation, we reach the collective unconscious. And, before you ask, my idea of the collective unconscious includes pigeons. Perhaps, like a radio band, once you’ve tuned in, there are different frequencies for groups of sentient beings.
The haiku cannot begin to describe completely enough the experience. It happened like this:
On my way home from work I was standing waiting for a bus beside a subway station. I noticed a group of people milling around and on investigation found they were watching a pigeon which kept falling down while walking in circles. When a bus arrived all the other people left. Almost nonplussed, after some hesitation, I picked up the pigeon and took it on the subway to the Humane Society. An attendant there took it in and filled out a form, which included my name and telephone number. She said it had probably been poisoned but that she would look after it. I went home feeling relieved yet miffed because under COLOUR on the form she had written “usual”. I had thought the colours – grays, soft rust, with a translucent shimmering green collar – looked beautiful with its pink legs and feet.
Arriving home I sat down and began meditating. Not long into the meditation my mind was filled with fluttering colours – those described above – and I knew the pigeon had died. I brought myself out of the meditation and phoned the Humane Society, when I was told they were about to phone me to tell me the pigeon had just died. It was a deeply moving experience for me.
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