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Friday, March 29, 2013

Breath


Mankind is more than he imagines himself to be
The ancient serpent only lied when he said
Ye shall be as gods
In the word shall

For godhood is entrenched in each spirit
Like the hidden roots of an old tree
What we see is a twisted, frail form
What exists is a vast and encompassing network
Of vitality, senses, powers, knowledge

Man is not who he imagines himself to be
Though most are unaware of this
And blissfully or tragically so
The iceberg conceals its mass under the surface

But how can we know?
How can the eye look upon itself?
How can thought discern thought?
The mind contain the mind?

There was a verse of extraordinary depth
And my master said, explain this verse,
But use only the words of the verse
I could not speak

He said, now pour me some wine,
But see that the wine encompass the glass

He touched my face and said,
Touch my touch
But as soon as I tried, it was gone

He took me to where the roses grow
And said, pick me one that both gives fragrance
And smells it

He said, why are you so quiet?
I said, You ask me that which cannot be answered

To some questions, he sighed
Silence is the only honest answer

Some prayers must consist only of breath
And some things can be understood without being explained
Some children will play a game they do not know the rules to
And some will dance without hearing the music

They will make a path without ever having seen a map
And will love even if they never heard the word
We are, my son, far more than we think we are

Our soul is the eagle over the mountains
While the mind trudges through a forest of words
Be silent that a path may be cleared
And the trudging mind may find its way

I said, shall we never know ourselves?
He said, there is a way
For the eye to understand sight
For the rose to understand fragrance
For the wine to encompass the goblet

Tell me Master
I am tired, he said
But he told me

For the soul to understand itself it must look upon God
Meditate upon God and you will understand who you are

But you taught me that God is incomprehensible
So I did, and it is true

And he slept
And for a long time I was quiet
Breathing, just breathing

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Bottles of Glass


Just old bottles—green, empty and clinking
But made by investment of hope
Into brave and glorious fleets
Sparkling vessels on oceans of silver

We seal up our thoughts like a crew hand selected
And cast them away with the tide
To cross the sea of separation
The space between one and another

We will see upon whose shore they wash
We will see the lands they discover
If indeed there are others out there—somewhere
Or if the world is just a big empty place

And if they should lose course or never alight
On that legendary land called ‘another’
At least the sea... she will know who we were
And that we, at one time, were here