Saturday, November 30, 2013
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Have you also learned that secret
from the river; that there is
no such thing as time?
That the river is everywhere at the
same time, at the source and at
the mouth, at the waterfall, at the
ferry, at the current, in the ocean
and in the mountains, everywhere
and that the present moment only exists for
it, not the shadow of the past nor
the shadow of the future?
Photo: Peter Bowers
Monday, November 25, 2013
The little river twittering in the twilight,
The wan, wandering look of the pale sky,
this is almost bliss.
And everything shut up and gone to sleep,
all the troubles and anxieties and pain
gone under the twilight.
Only the twilight now, and the soft "Sh!" of the
That will last forever.
And at last I know my love for you is here;
I can see it all, it is whole like the twilight,
It is large, so large, I could not see it before,
Because of the little lights and flickers and
Troubles, anxieties and pains.
You are the call and I am the answer,
You are the wish, and I am the fulfillment,
You are the night, and I am the day.
What else - it is perfect enough.
It is perfectly complete,
You and I,
What more-- ?
Strange, how we suffer in spite of this.
Photo: Peter Bowers
All day long a little burro labours, sometimes
with heavy loads on her back and sometimes
just with worries
about things that bother only
And worries, as we know, can be more
than physical labour.
Once in a while a kind monk comes
to her stable and brings
a pear, but more
he looks into the burro's eyes and touches her
and for a few seconds the burro is free
and even seems to laugh,
because love does
I wish I could speak like music. I wish I could put
the swaying splendor of fields into words so that
you could hold Truth against your body and dance.
I am trying the best I can with this crude brush,
the tongue, to cover you with light. I wish I could
speak like divine music. I want to give you the
sublime rhythms of this earth and sky's limbs
as they joyously spin and surrender, surrender
against God's luminous breath. Hafiz wants you
to hold me against your precious body and dance,
And an astronomer said, Master, what of Time:
And he answered:
You would measure time the measure-
less and the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even
direct the course of your spirit according to
hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon
whose bank you would sit and watch its
Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's
And knows that yesterday is but today's
memory and tomorrow is today's dream.
And that that which sings and contem-
plates in you is still dwelling within the
bounds of that first moment which scat-
tered the stars into space.
Who among you does not feel that his
power to love is boundless?
And yet who does not feel that very love,
though boundless, encompassed within the
centre of his being, and moving not from
love thought to love thought, nor from
love deeds to other love deeds?
And is not time even as love is, undivided
Friday, November 1, 2013
Look, the trees
their own bodies
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
the long tapers
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
I have ever learned
in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.