Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Writing Spells

Indra's Net

"There is an endless net of threads throughout the universe...
At every crossing of the threads there is an individual.
And every individual is a crystal bead.
And every crystal bead reflects
Not only the light from every other crystal in the net
But also every other reflection
Throughout the entire universe."
an adaptation of The Net of Jewels, or Indra's Net, one of the oldest written creations of humanity - Anne Adams

By the way, as is well known by many, while this description given of Indra's net is thousands of years old it is an almost perfect description of a hologram.

Wiki says: Indra or Śakra is the King of the demi-gods or Devas and Lord of Heaven or Svargaloka in Hindu mythology. He is also the God of War, Storms, and Rainfall.
Indra is one of the chief deities in the Rigveda. He is celebrated as a demiurge who pushes up the sky, releases dawn (Ushas) from the Vala cave, and slays Vṛtra; both latter actions are central to the Soma sacrifice. On the other hand, he also commits (like Zeus) many kinds of mischief (kilbiṣa) for which he is sometimes punished. He has many epithets, notably vṛṣan the bull, and vṛtrahan, slayer of Vṛtra and maghavan "the bountiful'. Indra appears as the name of an arch-demon in the Zoroastrian religion, while his epithet Verethragna appears as a god of victory.

In Puranic mythology, Indra is bestowed with a heroic and almost brash and amorous character at times, even as his reputation and role diminished in later Hinduism with the rise of the Trimurti. (The "Trimurti" is the Hindu Trinity of Bhrama, Vishnu, and Shiva, the personification among other things, of Creation, Preservation, and Transformation respectively). Indra is also called Śakra frequently in the Vedas and in Buddhism.

Indra, who pushes up the sky and releases the dawn, who governs war and storms and rain, who is bountiful and who slayed Vritra, the dragon who hoarded the waters of the world until slain, this is the One who has cast the net containing you and me. Cut away a small piece of the whole. You discover you still have the whole faithfully reflected just the same. There is no small piece.

Writing Spells

If not for magic
then these words would gasp, falter,
and fail to reach you
where you are, far gone
from my touch, my holy sight,
from the ground of us.

If not for magic
then only contingency
governs the dim day.

But here, now, a spell
woven behind my small words
has caressed your soul.

January 4, 2010 11:19 AM

1 comment:

  1. lovely poem, can't put my finger on quite why, but that is why
    thanks for sharing


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

Get Your Own Visitor Map!