“Longing, we say, because desire is full
of endless distances.”

25 June 2008


Bright Idea #43: We are All in this Together.
"The great enemy of clear language is insincerity." I have become a woman who thinks to herself Ah the Delphinium are Blooming. each morning out with the dogs to see whats up whats over whats through to peek and see if the bergamot are blooming if the elecampane has sent up a stalk of fairy flag if the joe pye has grown if the butterfly bush has bloomed if the rose leaves are still green if im still gently woven into this place its rhythms tides there are empty patches i dont rush to fill but let sit empty like the Heart Sutra says sit and wait for the tree root flower leaf to take its perfect place and exhale. she came in with a ladybug blown glass pomegranate seed perfect little hello how does monday sound? death and drama and dunderheads but here its quiet and undemanding as long as you can stand the smell. the crush of humanity smiled today loved my outfit loved my politics loved my interest in their health insurance drama loved my open heart the blank slate of my face the open palm of my time and thats so alright let me be the light let me be light let me be. last day of school this year went so fast past us everyday should absolutely be honored rolled in the mouth like wine sitting quiet peaceful in the silent space Form is Emptiness Emptiness Form Om Shanti Shanti Shanti All One.
"And if the question were asked: What is more real, the mundane or the sublime? most would hesitate before they gave an answer. On the one side, details: say, the aftermath of a breakfast, dirty chipped plates in the sink, their rims encrusted with egg yolk. Against this, the unnameable: small aching heart with boasts, what can you know? Outside the cage of everything we ever heard or saw, beyond, outside, above, there lies the real, hiding as long as we shall live, there stretch and trail the millions of names of God burning across the eons. When all through this our end will come before we even know the names of us.

For many the egg yolk prevails." -L.M.

"Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well." -V.V.G.

"The perfection of the Absolute where all Becoming stops and pure Being, immutable, timeless, unchanging, hangs forever like a ripe peach upon the bough." -E.A.

"...and the whole incident was incredibly frazzling and angst-rod and filled almost a whole mead notebook and is here recounted in only its barest psycho-skeletal outline." -D.F.W.

"At the top of the mountain, we are all snow leopards." -H.S.T.

"Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live." -D.T.
"Cometh a voice: My children, hear; From the crowded street and the close-packed mart I call you back with my message clear, back to my lap and my loving heart. Long have ye left me, journeying on by range and river and grassy plain, to the teeming towns where the rest have gone - come back, come back to my arms again. So shall ye lose the foolish needs that gnaw your souls; and my touch shall serve to heal the fretted nerve. Treading the turf that ye once loved well, instead of the stones of the city's street, ye shall hear nor din nor drunken yell, but the wind that croons in the ripening wheat. I that am old have seen long since ruin of palaces made with hands for the soldier-king and the priest and prince whose cities crumble in desert sands. But still the furrow in many a clime yields softly under the ploughman's feet; still there is seeding and harvest time, and the wind still croons in the ripening wheat. The works of man are but little worth; for a time they stand, for a space endure; but turn once more to your mother - Earth, my gifts are gracious, my works are sure. Instead of the strife and pain I give you peace, with its blessing sweet. Come back, come back to my arms again, for the wind still croons in the ripening wheat."
-John Sandes, The Earth-Mother (excerpt, 1918)