I confess to deep feeling. The Hindus make a yoga, a wisdom practice out of devotion. It is called Bhakti Yoga and is a true Path. It is among the deep needs of our destiny not only to find a true Path but as well to find the style of our journey. This is like choosing keyboards over guitar (a personal version) or like choosing poetry over deep painting. The Path in this way makes a difference. Devotion as a Path is much like the deepest commitments to a child, to a life partner, to finding a “soul mate”. Shanti, shanti, shantihi (peace, peace, most merciful peace). Bhakti yoga is not everyone’s Path. Thankfully, there are other yogas.
Half A World
All so far away, might as well be galaxies, at least half a world to you from where I sit trying to gather in the essence of you, of your passage through days and days.
I look at what you have left behind for me and from it claim I'd know you anywhere, if you called my name.
Some years ago my poetry took on a mythic flavor and I became a character in my own poems, a mage, "the man of the Northern Wall". This apellation is not completely fictional. My middle name is Noordwal, a Dutch term for north wall, though in current Dutch it mainly means north bank as in riverbank. I was told that an ancestor, a Portugese Jew escaping the Inquisition, settled in a small Dutch town and took this name from where he settled, near the north wall of the town. I have thought for a long time that -wal meant wall, think my mother told me that. A linguist might say that my usage is no longer common, is an older usage, but then the Inquisition happened in Portugal a few centuries ago, right around the time the Moors lost control of the Iberian Peninsula and the Jews lost the modest protection given them by Islam. Now I write as this mage, my poetry persona.