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#4843 - Thursday, February 14, 2013 - Editor: Gloria Lee

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  • Gloria Lee
    #4843 - Thursday, February 14, 2013 - Editor: Gloria Lee The Nonduality Highlights http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NDhighlights/ Love is the only reality and it
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 14, 2013

      #4843 - Thursday, February 14, 2013 - Editor: Gloria Lee
      Love is the only reality and it is not a mere sentiment.
      It is the ultimate truth that lies at the heart of creation.
      ~ Rabindranath Tagore

      "Love is the voice under all silences,
      the hope which has no opposite in fear;
      the strength so strong mere force is feebleness:
      the truth more first than sun, more last than star..."
      ~ E. E. Cummings

      "Love is a travel. All travelers whether they want or not are changed.
      No one can travel into love and remain the same."
      ~ Shams Tabrizi

      Aimless Love
      This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,
      I fell in love with a wren
      and later in the day with a mouse
      the cat had dropped under the dining room table.
      In the shadows of an autumn evening,
      I fell for a seamstress
      still at her machine in the tailor’s window,
      and later for a bowl of broth,
      steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.
      This is the best kind of love, I thought,
      without recompense, without gifts,
      or unkind words, without suspicion,
      or silence on the telephone.
      The love of the chestnut,
      the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.
      No lust, no slam of the door –
      the love of the miniature orange tree,
      the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
      the highway that cuts across Florida.
      No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor –
      just a twinge every now and then
      for the wren who had built her nest
      on a low branch overhanging the water
      and for the dead mouse,
      still dressed in its light brown suit.
      But my heart is always propped up
      in a field on its tripod,
      ready for the next arrow.
      After I carried the mouse by the tail
      to a pile of leaves in the woods,
      I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
      gazing down affectionately at the soap,
      so patient and soluble,
      so at home in its pale green soap dish.
      I could feel myself falling again
      as I felt its turning in my wet hands
      and caught the scent of lavender and stone.
      ~ Billy Collins  
      (Nine Horses)
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