Friday, 10 June 2011

Our own eternal nature

When I write poetry, I feel really good about any kind of relationship that is suggested between the body or mind's motion through physical space (as in the act of reading) and the experience by the soul of its own eternal nature. 

Here is an example from Tanglewood Way where I think this suggestion may reveal itself, if only, as is often the case in the Romantic style of poetry, as a question as to what is going on here or what is the connection between one thing and another. Such a dissonance can sometimes suggest that there is something in our space that we can perceive that is beyond our senses and that this transcendent plane or essence, once felt, can change the whole way we perceive ourselves and the world.

This experience, though it could be called metaphysical, is very common I believe to our experience of even fleeting happiness. Indeed, it has been suggested by one eminent sage that Happiness itself is beyond the senses and the very basis of all we perceive, the creative intelligence of the cosmos.

This could well be a difficult premise to accept in the face of human troubles. However, we may also reflect upon how many difficulties become much less difficult with the presence of forgiveness and inner happiness, which so often takes the place of any anger necessary in its own right, replacing confusion and unrest with a wider perhaps more loving perspective that makes us feel freer and lighter. 

I don't think that happiness is more important or "better" than bad feelings, therefore. One is the natural instinctual process of the other, the result of which the individual soul will always arrive at a greater awareness of his or her own eternal nature, much as the dawn is already in the womb of dusk, as another spiritual teacher has suggested.

How many of the things that make up the mental image of the "problems of the world,"smoke from the guns on the horizon, are actually the internal discomfort of other people being acted out with a fervent desire for happiness, a happiness they just know is within themselves, in the truth of who they are? In this way, "they" are no different from ourselves, and the prospect of peace is just as certain, so that as we change our mental outlook on the world, we are accepting the possibility of feeling more restful and peaceful within ourselves about our life difficulties, sending off less smoke from a gun and more radiation like the sun which is always shining, even behind the clouds.

The sun kisses every day with infinite love and peace, and so may we in our own unique ways, without even thinking about it. When we can feel the possibility of peace within ourselves, then can we conceive of peace within the world, a peace which is as good as already here, as good as ourselves, for it is all that ever was. In this is the deep value and radiance of every single human soul reflecting down from that same sun, this same moment of all the people of the Earth.

The world is as we are within.

When I write poetry, I feel really good about any kind of relationship that is suggested between the body or mind's motion through physical space (as in the act of reading) and the experience by the soul of its own eternal nature. 

Here is an example from Tanglewood Way where I think this suggestion may reveal itself, if only, as is often the case in the Romantic style of poetry, as a question as to what is going on here or what is the connection between one thing and another. Such a dissonance can sometimes suggest that there is something in our space that we can perceive that is beyond our senses and that this transcendent plane or essence, once felt, can change the whole way we perceive ourselves and the world.


Just I walked on down a path wast rising with descent
A slope upon a slope so that I trotted up a hill
With all the downward intonation that I would depend
Upon to lift my spirit floating, native, when a shrill
And incoherent banshee wail circumvented peace,
A being unaccounted by awareness or my wits,
So doubt along so loud a wail entered, energies
That peace must know and I must show mine endless Happiness.
Through senses blind momentum now its splendid trick performs
The whole awareness of the grace so magical a Life
That for the soul's articulation of creation warms
The everlasting thoughts that hath considered Paradise
An image of a child with a speed through which retards
A Dream of Life whose whole fulfillment lives inside the heart's.


Following a promontory circled a ravine
Where leaves the size of lily pads and fronds of branches moved
The creatures navigating every route they might hath need
A hidden network gave my thought a distant Dream renewed,
I came upon a sudden space of thought and place conveyed
An Happiness that had much though for all the Earth around,
So that the swelling in mine heart though painfully relayed
Back to the world anticipated every shape of cloud
To spell with Light the Dream and letter of an Heaven poised
Upon its own fulfillment by an Happiness conceived
The inspiration of creation, every girl and boy's
Discordant feelings the accord their Happiness and Peace,
In times of trial the fulfillment of the heart applied
This Light at once invisible, its Love wast never blind.




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