#4873 - Saturday/Sunday, March 23/24, 2013
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Nonduality Highlights Issue #4873, Saturday/Sunday, March 23/24, 2013
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
- Wendell Berry
The river and its waves are one surf: where
is the difference between the river and its waves?
When the wave rises, it is the water; and when
it falls, it is the same water again. Tell me, Sir,
where is the distinction?
Because it has been named a wave, shall it
no longer be considered as water?
Within the supreme Brahma, the worlds are
being told like beads:
Look upon that rosary with the eyes of wisdom.
- Kabir from Songs of Kabir, translated by Rabindranath Tagore, posted to AlongTheWay
Ten times a day something happens to me like this - some strengthening throb of amazement - some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.
- Mary Oliver
For others it is late, for us it is early.
Do not go back to sleep, remember silence.
Remember the name that turns emptiness
into nectar, the fragrance
yet unblossomed on a twig.
Night is over, what's drowned is drowned.
A fiery throated thrush tells lilac buds
Come dance in the space between prayers,
where golden atoms of forsythia
once were waves of yearning
in the zeal of a seed.
Transcendence is causation.
Worlds begin without words.
Because you are present, it is Spring.
Meet me where your exhalation
touches the new breath.
We will kiss the white plum open.
~ Fred LaMotte, posted to DailyDharma
Spring, and no one can be still,
with all the messages coming through.
We walk outside as though going to meet visitors,
wild roses, trilliums by the water.
A tight knot loosens.
Something which died in December
lifts a head out,
Trees, the tribe gathers!
Who has a chance
against such an elegant assemblage?
Before this power,
human beings are chives to be chopped,
gnats to be waved away.
- Rumi, Ode 1121, version by Coleman Barks from These Branching Moments, posted to Sunlight
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it is over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
- Mary Oliver
Instructions for Living A Life:
Tell About It.
- Mary Oliver