Elegy on Toy Piano

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You don't need a pony 

to connect you to the unseeable 

or an airplane to connect you to the sky. 

Necessary it is to love to live 

and there are many manuals 

but in all important ways 

one is on one's own. 

You need not cut off your hand. 

No need to eat a bouquet. 

Your head becomes a peach pit. 

Your tongue a honeycomb. 

Necessary it is to live to love, 

to charge into the burning tower 

then charge back out 

and necessary it is to die. 

Even for the trees, even for the pony 

connecting you to what can't be grasped. 

The injured gazelle falls behind the 

herd. One last wild enjambment. 

Because of the sores in his mouth, 

the great poet struggles with a dumpling. 

His work has enlarged the world 

but the world is about to stop including him. 

He is the tower the world runs out of. 

When something becomes ash, 

there's nothing you can do to turn it back. 

About this, even diamonds do not lie.

~ Dean Young

of beauty

And a poet said, Speak to us of Beauty.

And he answered:

Where shall you seek beauty, and how 

shall you find her unless she herself be your

way and your guide?

And how shall you speak of her except 

she be the weaver of your speech?

The aggrieved and injured say, 

"Beauty is kind and gentle."

The tired and weary say,

"Beauty is of soft whisperings

She speaks in our spirit."

In winter say the snow-bound,

"She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."

All these things have you said of beauty,

Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,

And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.

It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,

But rather a heart inflamed and a soul enchanted.

It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,

But rather an image you see though you

close your eyes and a song you hear though

you shut your ears.

People of Orphalese, 

beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.

But you are life and you are the veil.

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.

But you are eternity and you are the mirror.

~ Kahlil Gibran

from The Prophet

eternity is not infinity

Eternity is not infinity.
It is not a long time.
It does not begin at the end of time.
It does not run parallel to time.
In its entirety it always was.
In its entirety it will always be.
It is entirely present always.




~ Wendell Berry

delight in the way things are

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Blessed are the man and the woman

who have grown beyond their greed

and have put an end to their hatred

and no longer nourish illusions.

But they delight in the way things are

and keep their hearts open, day and night

They are like trees planted near flowing rivers,

which bear fruit when they are ready.

Their leaves will not fall or wither

everything they do will succeed.

.

Psalm 1

from The Book of Psalms

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The Journey

.

.

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save.

.

~ Mary Oliver

.

all several souls contain

 

 

 

 

If any, so by love refined, 

That he soul's language understood, 

And by good love were grown all mind, 

Within convenient distance stood, 

 

He—though he knew not which soul spake, 

Because both meant, both spake the same— 

Might thence a new concoction take, 

And part far purer than he came. 

 

This ecstasy doth unperplex 

(We said) and tell us what we love ; 

We see by this, it was not sex ; 

We see, we saw not, what did move : 

 

But as all several souls contain 

Mixture of things they know not what, 

Love these mix'd souls doth mix again, 

And makes both one, each this, and that. 

 

 

 

~ John Donne (1572-1631)

from The Ecstasy
art by Georgia O'Keefe

 

 

 

love song

.

.

How shall I hold my soul, that it may not 

be touching yours? How shall I lift it then

above you to where other things are waiting?

Ah, gladly would I lodge it, all-forgot,

with some lost thing the dark is isolating

on some remote and silent spot that, when 

your depths vibrate, is not itself vibrating.

You and me - all that lights upon us, though,

brings us together like a fiddle -bow

drawing one voice from two strings it glides along.

Across what instrument have we been spanned?

And what violinist holds us in his hand?

O sweetest song.

.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke 

March 1907, Capri 

translated by J. B. Leishman
art by klimt

.

sight

.

Once

a single cell

found that it was full of light

and for the first time there was seeing

.

when

I was a bird

I could see where the stars had turned

and I set out on my journey

.

high

in the head of a mountain goat

I could see across a valley

under the shining trees something moving

.

deep

in the green sea

I saw the two sides of the water

and swam between them

.

I

look at you

in the first light of the morning

for as long as I can

.

~ W. S. Merwin

.

my companion

.

.

You went away but remained in me

And thus became my peace and happiness.

.

In separation, separation left me

And I witnessed the Unknown.

.

You were the hidden secret of my longing,

Hidden deep within my conscience deeper than a dream.

.

You were my true friend in the day

And in darkness my companion

.

~ Mansur al- Hallaj

.

why bodhidharma went to motel 6

"Where is your home?” the interviewer asked him.

“Here.”

“No, no,” the interviewer said, thinking it a problem of translation,

“when you are where you actually live?”

Now it was his turn to think, Perhaps the translation?

~ Jane Hirshfield

no path

.

.

Now, if you go into it very clearly and thoroughly, with intelligence, you see that to truth there can be no path; there is no path, as yours and mine: the path of service, the path of knowledge, the path of devotion, and the other innumerable paths that philosophers have invented, depending on their particular idiosyncrasies and neurological responses. Now, if one can think clearly about this matter, without prejudice - I mean by prejudice, being committed to a particular action of thought or belief, and being utterly unaware that one particular form of thinking, one particular approach, must inevitably limit, whether it is the path of knowledge, the path of devotion, or the path of action - , one will see that any particular path must invariably limit, and therefore cannot lead to reality. Because, a path of action, or a path of knowledge, or a path of devotion, in itself, is not sufficient, surely. A man of learning, however erudite, however encyclopedic his knowledge may be, if he has no love, surely his knowledge is worthless; it is merely book learning. A man of belief, as we discussed, must inevitably shape his life according to the dogma, the tenet, that he holds, and therefore his experience must be limited; because, one experiences according to one’s beliefs, and such experience can never be liberating. On the contrary, it is binding. And, as we said, only in freedom can we discover anything new, anything fundamental.

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~ J. Krishnamurti 

from The Collected Works Volume V

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a blessing of solitude

.

.

May you recognize in your life the presence, 

power, and light of your soul.

.

May you realize that you are never alone, 

that your soul in its brightness and belonging connects

you intimately with the rhythm of the universe.

.

May you have respect for your own individuality and difference.

.

May you realize that the shape of your soul is unique, 

that you have a special destiny here, 

that behind the facade of your life there is something beautiful, 

good, and eternal happening.

.

May you learn to see yourself with the same delight, 

pride, and expectation with which God sees you in every moment.

.

~ John O’Donohue

from To Bless the Space Between Us

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how heron comes

It is a negligence of the mind

not to notice how at dusk

heron comes to the pond and

stands there in his death robes, perfect

servant of the system, hungry, his eyes

full of attention, his

wings pure light.

~ Mary Oliver

photo by Kathleen Connally

the way in

.

.

Whoever you are: some evening take a step,

out of your house, which you know so well.

Enormous space is near, your house lies where it begins,

whoever you are.

Your eyes find it hard to tear themselves

from the sloping threshold, but with your eyes,

slowly, slowly, lift one black tree

up, so it stands against the sky, skinny, alone.

With that you have made the world, the world is immense

and like a word that is still growing in the silence.

In the same moment that your will grasps it,

your eyes, feeling its subtlety  will leave it....

.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

translated by Robert Bly

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quietly

.

.

I sit quietly, listening to the falling leaves--

A lonely hut, a life of renunciation ...

.

and

.

this hut of sticks,

flimsy as the world itself.

.

~ Ryokan

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