Saturday, September 14, 2013
So now I can claim to be a wise man of forty (years of age). Whether that claim can be substantiated is another matter entirely! It's been a most enjoyable day. I feel so gratified that I chose to spend this moment of great turning with the men who have been my company and brothers here at the Minnesota Men's Conference. I could imagine attending again next year.
I enjoyed a beautiful experience of song this evening with candlelight the only source of (visual) illumination. Outside rain fell and kissed the parched earth. There is a chill in the air now; summer is fading and making way for the gray cool dampness of autumn. The turning is here. The turning is always here.
Below appears another poem. Immersing myself in the poetic gold of Robert Bly has a way of inspiring poetry in anyone's heart it would seem.
The undulating waters celebrate their inky blackness, their capacity to enchant, their ability to conceal treasures large and small, ancient and ambiguous.
Above shines the moon. She has decided to cast her light upon the waters. Light and dark, white and black dances ceaselessly.
The greatest of mysteries hide in plain sight between the light and dark. And yet there are no grays. Where indeed did the mystery of light and shadow come from?
Light and shadow reside in all of our hearts and yet we remain residents of a cloud of unknowing.
The moon glints upon the waters and knows of our confusion. She loves and weeps. She lights the night and the night loves her for it.
Dear Luna speaks a wisdom our ancestors suckled upon. She was the queen. No lights could compete with her. She reigns still despite all human contrivance. Cities may wash out her power yet she remains. The night worships her. The night scoffs at the great variety of human lighting. Her light feeds the fires within the human heart. Only she and the Sun do this.
She sinks lower in the sky. Rain clouds come. Sheets fall from the sky and knit a curtain about the moon. She announces her departure. And she delights in the rain. Countless watery depths salute her escorts. Ripples dance as I gaze in deep yearning. She has left me. My heart unleashes its own watery depths. There is no cure for my descent. And she knows this as well.
The rains grow stronger. I hear the moon's voice. She counsels me to drink deeply. Breathe deeply and drink deeply. I want to set sail upon the waters and sing to her. She knows the human heart. I have no boat.
I will knit together my endless flowing yearning and cast myself onto the waters. My yearning could launch a thousand boats.
Sorrow my most powerful companion. She is my enchantress.
I feel somehow that I am recalling my indestructible belonging. I celebrated my own life today by celebrating in the way my own ancestors have done for countless generations. I enjoyed the gift of human song in a room filled with candlelight and human warmth. This is what we all did millennia ago. It is humanity at its most fundamental. This night is this:
This is exaltation.
This is kindness.
This is breath.
This is sustenance.
This is contentment.
This is love.
This IS.
So now I can claim to be a wise man of forty (years of age). Whether that claim can be substantiated is another matter entirely! It's been a most enjoyable day. I feel so gratified that I chose to spend this moment of great turning with the men who have been my company and brothers here at the Minnesota Men's Conference. I could imagine attending again next year.
I enjoyed a beautiful experience of song this evening with candlelight the only source of (visual) illumination. Outside rain fell and kissed the parched earth. There is a chill in the air now; summer is fading and making way for the gray cool dampness of autumn. The turning is here. The turning is always here.
Below appears another poem. Immersing myself in the poetic gold of Robert Bly has a way of inspiring poetry in anyone's heart it would seem.
The undulating waters celebrate their inky blackness, their capacity to enchant, their ability to conceal treasures large and small, ancient and ambiguous.
Above shines the moon. She has decided to cast her light upon the waters. Light and dark, white and black dances ceaselessly.
The greatest of mysteries hide in plain sight between the light and dark. And yet there are no grays. Where indeed did the mystery of light and shadow come from?
Light and shadow reside in all of our hearts and yet we remain residents of a cloud of unknowing.
The moon glints upon the waters and knows of our confusion. She loves and weeps. She lights the night and the night loves her for it.
Dear Luna speaks a wisdom our ancestors suckled upon. She was the queen. No lights could compete with her. She reigns still despite all human contrivance. Cities may wash out her power yet she remains. The night worships her. The night scoffs at the great variety of human lighting. Her light feeds the fires within the human heart. Only she and the Sun do this.
She sinks lower in the sky. Rain clouds come. Sheets fall from the sky and knit a curtain about the moon. She announces her departure. And she delights in the rain. Countless watery depths salute her escorts. Ripples dance as I gaze in deep yearning. She has left me. My heart unleashes its own watery depths. There is no cure for my descent. And she knows this as well.
The rains grow stronger. I hear the moon's voice. She counsels me to drink deeply. Breathe deeply and drink deeply. I want to set sail upon the waters and sing to her. She knows the human heart. I have no boat.
I will knit together my endless flowing yearning and cast myself onto the waters. My yearning could launch a thousand boats.
Sorrow my most powerful companion. She is my enchantress.
I feel somehow that I am recalling my indestructible belonging. I celebrated my own life today by celebrating in the way my own ancestors have done for countless generations. I enjoyed the gift of human song in a room filled with candlelight and human warmth. This is what we all did millennia ago. It is humanity at its most fundamental. This night is this:
This is exaltation.
This is kindness.
This is breath.
This is sustenance.
This is contentment.
This is love.
This IS.
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I invite you to accompany me as I document my own journey of healing. My blog is designed to offer inspiration and solace to others. If you find it of value I welcome you to share it with others. Aloha!