for lost friends

.

.

As twilight makes a rainbow robe

From the concealed colors of day

In order for time to stay alive

Within the dark weight of night,

May we lose no one we love

From the shelter of our hearts.

.

When we love another heart

And allow it to love us, 

We journey deep below time

Into that eternal weave

Where nothing unravels.

.

May we have the grace to see

Despite the hurt of rupture,

The searing of anger,

And the empty disappointment,

That whoever we have loved,

Such love can never quench.

.

Though a door may have closed,

Closed between us,

May we be able to view

Our lost friends with eyes

Wise with calming grace;

Forgive them the damage

We were left to inherit;

.

Free ourselves from the chains

Of forlorn resentment;

Bring warmth again to 

Where the heart has frozen

In order that beyond the walls

Of our cherished hurt

And chosen distance

We may be able to 

Celebrate the gifts they brought,

Learn and grow from the pain,

And prosper into difference,

Wishing them the peace

Where spirit can summon

Beauty from wounded space.

.

~ John O'Donohue

from To Bless the Space Between Us

.

a way between voice and presence

.

Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu

Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion

.

or cultural system. I am not from the East

or the West, not out of the ocean or up

.

from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not

composed of elements at all. I do not exist,

.

am not an entity in this world or in the next,

did not descend from Adam and Eve or any

.

origin story. My place is placeless, a trace

of the traceless. Neither body or soul.

.

I belong to the beloved, have seen the two

worlds as one and that one call to and know,

.

first, last, outer, inner, only that

breath breathing human being.

.

There is a way between voice and presence

where information flows.

.

In disciplined silence it opens.

With wandering talk it closes.

.

~ Rumi

translation by Coleman Barks

.

this press of time

We set the pace,

But this press of time –

take it as a little thing

next to what endures.

All this hurrying

soon will be over

Only when we tarry

do we touch the holy.

Young ones,

don’t waste your courage

racing so fast

flying so high.

See how all things are at rest –

darkness and morning light

blossom and book.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

you know quite well

.

.

You know quite well, deep within you, 

that there is only a single magic,

a single power, a single salvation...

and that is called loving. 

.

~ Herman Hesse 

.

the tree of love

....

I said to God, “Let me love you.”

And he replied, “Which part?”

“All of you, all of you.” I said.

“Dear” God spoke, “You are as a mouse wanting to impregnate

a tiger who is not even in heat. It is a feat way

beyond your courage and strength.

You would run from me

if I removed my

mask.”

I said to God again,

“Beloved I need to love you – every aspect, every pore.”

And this time God said,

“There is a hideous blemish on my body,

though it is such an infinitesimal part of my Being-

could you kiss that if it were revealed?”

“I will try, Lord, I will try.”

And then God said,

“That blemish is all the hatred and

cruelty in this

world.”

~  Saint Thomas Aquinas

from Love Poems from God, by Daniel Ladinsky

I am the truth

.

tomb of Hallaj

.

Kill me, my faithful friends,

For in my being killed is my life.

.

Love is that you remain standing

In front of your Beloved

When you are stripped of all your attributes;

Then His attributes become your qualities.

.

Between me and You, there is only me.

Take away the me, so only You remain

...

I am the One whom I love, and the One whom I love is myself.

We are two souls incarnated in one body;

if you see me, you see Him,

if you see Him, you see us.

.

~  Al-Hallaj

Mansur al-Hallaj was executed in Baghdad in 922.

Hallaj taught an interior expression,

 he was known to say “ana al-haq,” or “I am the Truth,”

for this he was executed.

.

each moment to fully engage

 .

.

Pursuing knowledge in childhood we rise

Until we become masterful and wise

But if we look through the disguise

We see the ties of worldly lies.

.

Early one morning I heard an angelic chime

Bringing news of a loving and joyous clime

Pursuit of the unimportant is the worst crime

Live in joy & love before the end of your time.

.

I watched the birds on nature’s stage

Playful, in flight, page after page

Thus opened the doors of my cage

& learnt each moment to fully engage.

.

~ Omar Khayyam

verses from The Rubaiyat

.

I sent my soul

.

I sent my soul into the invisible,

Some letter of that after life to spell.

And by and by my soul returned to me

And answered, I myself am heaven and hell.

.

~ Omar Khayyam 

from The Rubaiyat

.

a symphony

.

.

...Ever since I was a child, I have had the tendency to create a fictitious world around me, to surround myself with friends and acquaintances who never existed. ( I don’t know, of course, if they didn't really exist or if it is me who doesn't exist. On such matters, as in all others, one shouldn't be dogmatic.) Ever since I became aware of the thing that I call self, I can remember with mental precision, the figures, the movements, the character and the history of several fictitious people who were, to me, as visible and mine as those things which we, perhaps abusively, call real life. This tendency, which exists since I realized that I was a self, has always been with me, modifying slightly the kind of music it uses to bewitch me but never altering its manner of bewitching.

.

~ Fernando Pessoa

in a letter to his friend Casais Monteiro

.

My soul is like a hidden orchestra; I do not know which instruments 

grind and play away inside of me, strings and harps, timbales and drums. 

I can only recognize myself as a symphony.

.

from The Book of Disquiet

.

present truth

.

one must be 

in the moment 

for life to 

ever come true 

.

touch the ground 

and be grounded 

find comfort here 

.

living, being, 

breathing, now 

this is where 

it will all happen

.

~ Benjamin Dean

from straighten the heart, the mind disappears

.

ash ode

.

.

When I saw you ahead I ran two blocks 

shouting your name then realizing it wasn't 

you but some alarmed pretender, I went on 

running, shouting now into the sky, 

continuing your fame and luster. Since I've

 been incinerated, I've oft returned to this thought, 

that all things loved are pursued and never caught, 

even as you slept beside me you were flying off. 

At least what's never had can’t be lost, the sieve 

of self stuck with just some larger chunks, jawbone, 

wedding ring, a single repeated dream, 

a lullaby in every elegy, descriptions 

of the sea written in the desert, your broken 

umbrella, me claiming I could fix it.

.

~ Dean Young

I died for beauty

.

I died for beauty, but was scarce

Adjusted in the tomb,

When one who died for truth was lain

In an adjoining room.

.

He questioned softly why I failed?

“For beauty,” I replied.

“And I for truth, -the two are one;

We brethren are,” he said.

.

And so, as kinsmen met a night,

We talked between the rooms,

Until the moss had reached our lips,

And covered up our names.

.

~ Emily Dickinson

.

da capo

Take the used-up heart like a pebble

and throw it far out.

Soon there is nothing left.

Soon the last ripple exhausts itself

in the weeds.

Returning home, slice onions, carrots, celery.

Glaze them in oil before adding

the lentils, water, and herbs.

Then the roasted chestnuts, a little pepper, the salt.

Finish with goat cheese and parsley. Eat.

You may do this, I tell you, it is permitted.

Begin again the story of your life.

~ Jane Hirshfield

from The Lives of the Heart

unpetalled

.

I unpetalled you, like a rose,

to see your soul,

and I didn't see it.

.

But everything around

--horizons of lands and of seas--

everything, out to the infinite,

was filled with a fragrance,

enormous and alive.

.

~ Juan Ramon Jimenez

translated by Stephen Mitchell

.

in a stolen boat

push off what seemed safe: The fishing dock,

pitch pines, children glazed to sheen

by ruthless summers. Past

 

the jetty, past the past, to open sea--

all violet and green, that choppy path between doom and luck--

Put your back into it, and row.

 

 

 

~ April Bernard

.