Worthy of being read over and over and over again.
Each line worthy of contemplation.
"That it loves searching out what is hidden, what is lost,
what is forgotten, or in peril, or in pain."
This knocks the air out of me. It gives voice to my longing.
Proving how true the next line is.
"That is has a fondness for the body, for finding its way toward flesh,
for tracing the edges of form, for shining forth through
the eye, the hand, the heart."
I would add--and the belly.
"That it works its way into the deepest dark that enfolds you,
though it may seem long ages in coming or arrive in a
shape you did not foresee."
I recall and ponder those moments when light arrived
in shapes I did not foresee and marvel in wonder.
When did light arrive in a shape you did not foresee?
This piece does not need my commentary...
it is a stand-alone symphony, a tuning fork to comfort and console.
Namaste
No comments:
Post a Comment