Salvador Dali's portrait of Paul Eluard.
(Some years before he painted this portrait, Dali took Eluard's lover away from him.)
This is Paul Eluard
(Paul Éluard was the pen name of Eugène Émile Paul Grindel (14 December 1895 – 18 November 1952), a French poet who was one of the founders of the surrealist movement.)
And I write: My heart lives in the in between places where magic is to be expected and the secrets of the world are kept. My heart lives where the drake and dam entwine their necks as they glide down the watery path to the moon and the world warms with gander and goose, offering green beauty in potions easily made there in the in between. I can step off the world and climb the music in the stairway to heaven. Angels ascending and descending pass by on this wide stair, this very stair we sang about in rock and roll, the rock and roll that makes sense of this crazy world, sourced as it is in the power of the in between. I am earning my wings. I promise you, I am earning my wings. It is what I do here, earn my wings.
Weaving Your Name
Let me fly near you,
my true form enclosed in mist,
filmy, indistinct
as I weave the shape
of your true and holy Name
in the clear soft air
of your brilliant soul.
In this way I will lead you
from world to new world.
September 17, 2009 7:47 PM
And I write: My heart lives in the in between places where magic is to be expected and the secrets of the world are kept. My heart lives where the drake and dam entwine their necks as they glide down the watery path to the moon and the world warms with gander and goose, offering green beauty in potions easily made there in the in between. I can step off the world and climb the music in the stairway to heaven. Angels ascending and descending pass by on this wide stair, this very stair we sang about in rock and roll, the rock and roll that makes sense of this crazy world, sourced as it is in the power of the in between. I am earning my wings. I promise you, I am earning my wings. It is what I do here, earn my wings.
Weaving Your Name
Let me fly near you,
my true form enclosed in mist,
filmy, indistinct
as I weave the shape
of your true and holy Name
in the clear soft air
of your brilliant soul.
In this way I will lead you
from world to new world.
September 17, 2009 7:47 PM
O beautiful Bard,
ReplyDeleteYour words bring the mist.
The magic.
Opening the petals
Of the in between.
Weaving warmth
Into these shells.
Twining us close,
Bequeathing us wings.
Flying now
In worlds of worlds
Sacred, Holy....
bringing new flames.
Inner Work
ReplyDeleteEverything, all
the marbles from the dime bag
and the hope you bring
to my current digs
feathers my sight, promises
me wings and a new
perch in the crazy
scheme of subtle driven things
that still surround me.
Gathering twigs,
ReplyDeletesome moss and lichen.
Wrapping the weft
Around the warp.
Into the sands of time
A nest.
Continuing Conversation
ReplyDeleteThere you go, release
the words in small flocks, tumbling
light in the near air
and see where they land.
It may turn out as soul balm
and then again not.
Poems have their own
intent as if they are born
beyond you and me.
Is that what we are about,
ReplyDeletesome of us without even knowing?
It both seems and seems not.
xo
erin
Erin, I am convinced that the path is long indeed and we really can only do a little bit of it in the most spiritually successful lifetime unless we shoot for the shortcut, where it is possible (long shot but still possible) that we can jump the queue and break out (avatar or buddha), or else refrain and turn back but no longer in the struggle directly (bodhisattva) all in one lifetime. Most of us don't really take after the shortcut though that may be the direction we are aiming toward in some future life.
ReplyDeleteWhat this means is that it is probable that only a few of us are really chasing the same thing in any given group on the planet. You have your station and I mine. The biggest fools game in town is to try to rate these things as to who is higher or better or right. We are all closely clustered compared to the biggest field of possibility. It is rare for someone to be standout. But still the differences in what we legitimately yearn for, legitimately need can be profound.
If you ever find things I say too strange they probably are, though they might not be after you turn a corner. They might get stranger once you turn the corner too. Your challenge is like mine at least in this, that you must trust whatever it is you choose to rely on, whether it is some guru or your own instinct, some set of guidances or the voice of God. Once you make your choice you dare not flutter too much between alternatives or you risk shorting out your progress. Each time you change your lead(er) you risk too severe reversals on your Way.
While it is true in a certain sense that you have all the time in the world for this work, in another sense it is equally true that time is short and your participation is imperative.