#15
The subtle within us beguiles with its
mystique. It is tranquil lake and tempest. It
is home and grave. The only way to know
the unknown is to accept that it will
immediately change places with the known.
Nirvana like a river is constantly renewed.
Previous: Tao inspirations #14
#14
To find myself, I have to go back to the
beginning. To the bottom of a spade as
it hits the earth. To the edge of the wind
as it brushes a star. To the void that had
no door, no womb, no face, no name. To
find myself, I have to find that nothing.
Previous: Tao inspirations #13
#12
The dervish whirls. A single ney follows
his breath. One colour. One earth.
One sky. One beloved. One love.
Anything more would be an aberration.
How will you fit the abundance
of your need into one moment?
#10
What is proportion if you cannot comprehend
infinity? What is magnificence if you cannot calibrate
inadequacy? The baby Krishna opened his mouth to
show his mother his cosmic form. Can you feel that
mystery of being? And wonder why the ultimate creation
was so deliberately crafted out of fragile ephemera?
#9
How much happiness is enough? How much
love is essential? Does enough run to the edge
of the universe or can a solitary umbrella of stars
make up your night? The moon’s dharma is to
keep going back to the beginning. What will
you do with a love that never stops wanting?
#8
You made up these rules. You set the bar for
longing too high. You wanted to be exalted
as a star, as a god. But I know love refused to
play your game. It fell into your arms and fit
its weight into the yearning in your heart. Didn’t
it teach you to fly with your feet on the ground?
#7
Count all the things that are eternal. Then
count all the things that are not. In which
list did you put the love you feel? The love
you received? In which list did you put
yourself? When creation made its lists,
which one do you think it placed you in?
#6
From the womb of mystery, everything
was birthed. That energy emboldens
the ocean, that fecundity fans the wind,
that weight holds up the gods. Light burst
from a doorway of darkness. Love emerged
at last from a contraction of blinding pain.
#5
Does love come to you as a kindness?
Does pain seek you in vengeance? Your
poems are your own failings. Think how
much more can be said by your silence. Do
you hear the remonstrations of the moon?
Isn’t she still the greatest of poets?
#4
But love cannot be coerced by
knotted geometry. It spins around
you in a circle, always at the same
distance from your want. Giving or
receiving leaves it unchanged. Mira
knows about this zero-sum game.
THOUGHT PURGE 