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#4749 - Sunday, November 4, 2012

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    Archived issues of the NDHighlights are available online: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm Nonduality Highlights Issue
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 4, 2012
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      Archived issues of the NDHighlights are available online: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm

      Nonduality Highlights Issue #4749, Sunday, November 4, 2012



      Understand, I am always trying to figure out
      what the soul is,
      and where hidden,
      and what shape
      and so, last week,
      when I found on the beach
      the ear bone
      of a pilot whale that may have died
      hundreds of years ago, I thought
      maybe I was close
      to discovering something
      for the ear bone


      is the portion that lasts longest
      in any of us, man or whale; shaped
      like a squat spoon
      with a pink scoop where
      once, in the lively swimmer's head,
      it joined its two sisters
      in the house of hearing,
      it was only
      two inches long
      and thought: the soul
      might be like this
      so hard, so necessary


      yet almost nothing.
      Beside me
      the gray sea
      was opening and shutting its wave-doors,
      unfolding over and over
      its time-ridiculing roar;
      I looked but I couldn't see anything
      through its dark-knit glare;
      yet don't we all know, the golden sand
      is there at the bottom,
      though our eyes have never seen it,
      nor can our hands ever catch it


      lest we would sift it down
      into fractions, and facts
      and what the soul is, also
      I believe I will never quite know.
      Though I play at the edges of knowing,
      truly I know
      our part is not knowing,
      but looking, and touching, and loving,
      which is the way I walked on,
      through the pale-pink morning light.

      - Mary Oliver, from Why I Wake Early

      A Thousand Mornings

      All night my heart makes its way
      however it can over the rough ground
      of uncertainties, but only until night
      meets and then is overwhelmed by
      morning, the light deepening, the
      wind easing and just waiting, as I
      too wait (and when have I ever been
      disappointed?) for redbird to sing.

      - Mary Oliver from A Thousand Mornings

      The Lightest Touch

      Good poetry begins with
      the lightest touch,
      a breeze arriving from nowhere,
      a whispered healing arrival,
      a word in your ear,
      a settling into things,
      then like a hand in the dark
      it arrests the whole body,
      steeling you for revelation.

      In the silence that follows
      a great line
      you can feel Lazarus
      deep inside
      even the laziest, most deathly afraid
      part of you,
      lift up his hands and walk toward the light.

      - David Whyte from Everything is Waiting for You

      On Self-Knowledge

      Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
      But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.
      You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.
      You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.

      And it is well you should.
      The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea;
      And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes.
      But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;
      And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.
      For self is a sea boundless and measureless.

      Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth." Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."
      For the soul walks upon all paths.
      The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
      The soul unfolds itself like a lotus of countless petals.

      - Kahlil Gibran

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