Tag Archives: infinity

Round Again: chanso

And so around again:
the how, the where, the when;
could be and might have been;
the raven or the wren.

The sword versus the pen:
in battles now and then
it’s hard to tell who wins;
the line is blurred, and blends.

What’s up around the bend?
Who knows? To see us then
is merely to pretend,
to forecast of the end.

The currency we spend
for lies and hope depends
on credit from our friends
and how we limit them.

We dare not to offend
what might hide in the glen
awaiting living men
who march to war again.

How fast the truth descends!
Around our necks it wends
and gyres, while we extend
our courtesies. Amen.

Off round and round again;
we start, we end, we spin.

3 FEB 2017

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Salt of the Earth

Imagine a person made completely out of salt.

If that person chooses to be immersed in the ocean, their very being is absorbed by the sea. Once their head is beneath the waves, no distinction can be made between their now dissolved form and the depths into which they have sojourned. Not even the ocean can separate itself again, saying “this minute portion of me is of that small salt doll, and the remainder is not”.

Such is the case, too, when a person approaches and begins to comprehend the infinite energy of the universe. Once an individual recognizes the eternal within themselves, the external sack of temporal cloth in which that eternal has been stored melts away, and only the infinite remains.

In either case, who is left to report, to return some answer to the question they originally set out seeking? And in what language could that answer be expressed, that those on the shore, whose toes scarcely dare to dip into the surf’s foam, would be able to understand?

Even the cleverest of parables fails. And to speak with the voice of the ocean itself is to be misunderstood as a overwhelming roar.

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The Parable of the Mustard Seed

“Against you, I have great legions arrayed.
Your brothers even call out for your death;
yet you smile and do not waste your breath
with pleading, or seem in the least dismayed.

I hold the power to end your short life
Here in my hands, yet you refuse to speak
a word of self-defense and like a freak
just stand there, stretched neck poised against the knife!

What is this strength of spirit you possess
that gives you peace in this, your time of need?
You are just flesh and bone, you bruise and bleed.
Do I not speak the truth? I must confess

I do not understand your plan, or stance —
please, if you wish to live, this is your chance.”

“Of power and might what is it you know?
Can you bring a new life into the world
while grasping at truth, your hands tightly curled
into a fist? That kind of strength won’t grow,

but fades and withers with time. As the wind
comes down across the desert and will eat
both solid iron and soft flesh, it defeats
and crushes greater foes. Look, you will find

there is one source of strength here on this earth.
It fuels all things and does not subdivide;
how it is finds use or form is not decided
by you or I, who cannot judge its worth

nor guess from what dark place it manifests,
despite our measurements or endless tests.

The whole we see and know is our small part;
outside that range lie strange and useless powers.
What good to men the grace that blooms in flowers,
or the great force that keeps the stars apart?

What you believe is there within your reach
is shared with every other thing that lives;
and what allows your breath, may also give
its form to each grain of sand on the beach.

And like that speck of dust tossed in the sea
is the small portion of strength in our flock,
yet it may a move a mass of solid rock,
once you become the rock, quite easily.

For more than this I do not ask, or need.
Can such a tree grow from your mustard seed?

16 AUG 2003

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