Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

the ungathered

Expand Messages
  • Trinidad Cruz
    Toward peace and the grey margins of the day. I have drawn my hands away The andante of vain hopes and lost regret Falls like slow rain that whispers to
    Message 1 of 2 , Aug 7 8:01 AM
    • 0 Attachment
      "Toward peace and the grey margins of the day.
      I have drawn my hands away
      The andante of vain hopes and lost regret
      Falls like slow rain that whispers to forget,-
      Like a song that neither questions nor replies
      It laves with coolness tarnished lips and eyes.

      I have drawn my hands away
      At last to touch the ungathered rose. 0 stay,
      Moment of dissolving happiness! Astir
      Already in the sky, night's chorister
      Has brushed a petal from the jasmine moon,
      And the heron has passed by, alas, how soon!

      I have drawn my hands away
      Like ships for guidance in the lift and spray
      Of stars that urge them toward an unknown goal.
      Drift, 0 wakeful one, 0 restless soul,
      Until the glittering white open hand
      Of heaven thou shalt read and understand."
      (Hart Crane)

      In the end it is not so much that we can be what we want to be, but
      rather that we can even be what we are. Often in the hardest of times,
      we press harder against the work we are making of ourselves precisely
      to undo it. In thinking out a form of what we must somehow become we
      plan ourselves away. We are desolate and unguided together. We cannot
      remember what we are being for ouselves. It makes us, and then leaves
      us to its making in our own eye – to make what we cannot see. To see
      it, to touch it, is to not have it at all; for it is only in the not
      having what we are that we see it or touch it at all. What is an
      existential project; but to make a human being of what our being has
      made of us. That is before us here in these days, all of us in our
      same desolation. There blind and numb we all collide with one another
      and make the darkness out of which the eye begins to see – and the
      first of the light will surely hurt. We are ungathered. Otherwise we
      see and touch only what is dead.

      The human species is a whole thing. Changing one's religion is only
      painful if one considers that being is constructed by religion; not
      realizing that just the opposite is true. Changing one's skin color,
      one's sexual orientation, in an attempt to survive prejudice is a
      thing obviating of being in a way that religious angst can never
      touch. It is a letting go of the actual existential project.Changing
      religion is just editing. Being a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Christian is
      not a matter of being at all, only an attempt to characterize being
      that falls short of reason – an endeavor to appreciate a facsimile
      what cannot be seen or touched. An adult is a child of him/herself.
      The first parents, the goodness makers of our being, are not seen or
      touched beyond our maturity, actually only living to whatever degree
      of goodness they have presented in what we are being, not in what we
      think we are being or even what we think we can make of ourselves.
      Whatever we reason or choose can be changed. It is what we cannot
      reason or choose that is actually us. Prejudice and religion alike are
      both thoughts – desolation wrought, blinding and numbing. Circumcision
      is an after the fact display of dialectical solidarity, not a race:
      "Let's fumble around and screw up our existential project together. It
      won't be so desolate, at least for a while."

      Trinidad
    • Nicholas Widger
      Trinidad, I ve been so intrigued by your posts that I ve saved most of them. This post is no different. Our Moderator pointed out an important ... times, ...
      Message 2 of 2 , Aug 7 8:36 AM
      • 0 Attachment
        Trinidad,

        I've been so intrigued by your posts that I've saved most of them.
        This post is no different.

        Our Moderator pointed out an important
        --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "Trinidad Cruz" <cruzprdb@...>
        wrote:
        >
        > "Toward peace and the grey margins of the day.
        > I have drawn my hands away
        > The andante of vain hopes and lost regret
        > Falls like slow rain that whispers to forget,-
        > Like a song that neither questions nor replies
        > It laves with coolness tarnished lips and eyes.
        >
        > I have drawn my hands away
        > At last to touch the ungathered rose. 0 stay,
        > Moment of dissolving happiness! Astir
        > Already in the sky, night's chorister
        > Has brushed a petal from the jasmine moon,
        > And the heron has passed by, alas, how soon!
        >
        > I have drawn my hands away
        > Like ships for guidance in the lift and spray
        > Of stars that urge them toward an unknown goal.
        > Drift, 0 wakeful one, 0 restless soul,
        > Until the glittering white open hand
        > Of heaven thou shalt read and understand."
        > (Hart Crane)
        >
        > In the end it is not so much that we can be what we want to be, but
        > rather that we can even be what we are. Often in the hardest of
        times,
        > we press harder against the work we are making of ourselves
        precisely
        > to undo it. In thinking out a form of what we must somehow become
        we
        > plan ourselves away. We are desolate and unguided together. We
        cannot
        > remember what we are being for ouselves. It makes us, and then
        leaves
        > us to its making in our own eye – to make what we cannot see. To
        see
        > it, to touch it, is to not have it at all; for it is only in the
        not
        > having what we are that we see it or touch it at all. What is an
        > existential project; but to make a human being of what our being
        has
        > made of us. That is before us here in these days, all of us in our
        > same desolation. There blind and numb we all collide with one
        another
        > and make the darkness out of which the eye begins to see – and the
        > first of the light will surely hurt. We are ungathered. Otherwise
        we
        > see and touch only what is dead.
        >
        > The human species is a whole thing. Changing one's religion is only
        > painful if one considers that being is constructed by religion; not
        > realizing that just the opposite is true. Changing one's skin
        color,
        > one's sexual orientation, in an attempt to survive prejudice is a
        > thing obviating of being in a way that religious angst can never
        > touch. It is a letting go of the actual existential
        project.Changing
        > religion is just editing. Being a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Christian
        is
        > not a matter of being at all, only an attempt to characterize being
        > that falls short of reason – an endeavor to appreciate a facsimile
        > what cannot be seen or touched. An adult is a child of him/herself.
        > The first parents, the goodness makers of our being, are not seen
        or
        > touched beyond our maturity, actually only living to whatever
        degree
        > of goodness they have presented in what we are being, not in what
        we
        > think we are being or even what we think we can make of ourselves.
        > Whatever we reason or choose can be changed. It is what we cannot
        > reason or choose that is actually us. Prejudice and religion alike
        are
        > both thoughts – desolation wrought, blinding and numbing.
        Circumcision
        > is an after the fact display of dialectical solidarity, not a race:
        > "Let's fumble around and screw up our existential project
        together. It
        > won't be so desolate, at least for a while."
        >
        > Trinidad
        >
      Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.