Friday, June 14, 2013

Rashani Rea - Wu said to Wei

Wu said to Wei,
“There’s a natural
a non-way of sorts
in which love
invisibly happens
(not to) us
without effort
or action
with impeccable
as finely focused
as a scalpel’s
as purely
as a cocoon’s dying
into a butterfly
or moth,
as deifying
and wondrously wild
as an impecunious mystic
the silk lining
on her clothen
or winning the lottery
without having
bought a ticket.

love moves
from silence into song
through song back
into silence,
sometimes fiercely
other times tenderly.
It has no preferences
IT simply knows
without knowing
the way moonlight
like a single tear
from shiva’s eye
it sees
the rudraksha beads
that wait
to be touched
by the devotee’s
loving fingers.”

Wei reminded Wu,
“Once struck,
the singing bowl
simply sings
and unstoppably.
The vibration
of particles may cease
but since energy
like love
can not be created
or destroyed
it simply changes
into a different form.”

“So too,”
whispered the wind,
“the delicate scent
of ylang ylang
permeates the entire garden
and one small candle
can fill a darkened room,
‘doing nothing’
yet transmuting everything.”

Through love
we “do” without doing
there is nothing to do
and nothing not to do.
Not ‘doing’ something
and not ‘not doing’ anything,
love co-arises.

We can never know it
we can only BE it.

There’s an innocent
spontaneity, ancient
as a song line
in Gonwanaland,
moving inexorably
like ground water
beneath a barren desert.

like ether
the rapturous
spirals of love
and permeate
all objects
and all beings.

Love is the greatest
for the conceptual mind.
In its mystery
we are destined to find
more than we ever imagined
and less than we ever feared.

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