Robert Frost said poetry is lost in translation. Another person ? said it is actually in the translation where the poetry of new forms are born and creation lives. If we determine to define ourselves as fixed in identity, country, belief, inaction, we fall prey to rot. If we are too porous anything can come in and anything can fall out. If rigid, very little penetrates- so sad! Integrate so no thing is stagnant. No thing is with out multiple intersections. Everything is fleeting unfolding potential. The watcher is the constant axis within the whirling. The watcher is the friend. Consult your own purpose. Trust yourself and become trustworthy. Black is first light. Consult the darkness and the light. Light draws the darkness. Be not afeared. The flowers are always unfolding. Far more liberating than the phantasmagoria of Black Friday and"choice" is the recognition of belonging to something VAST.
|Photo National Geographic: Orion Space Jewel|
"I was a Hidden treasure who longed to be known" -Koran
our bodies are made of stars.
Now, i will enrich my own weighty materialism and consider another thing of beauty to soften my surroundings.
A rug with lovely lines.