Another Wounded Pilgrim

parabola-magazine: Within light there is darkness, But do not try to understand that darkness.Within darkness there is light, But do not look for that light. Light and darkness are a pair,Like the foot before and the foot behind in walking.–Shih’tuo, a verse from the SandokaiPhotograph: George Seeley, Black Bowl, 1907 This

parabola-magazine:

Within light there is darkness,
But do not try to understand that darkness.
Within darkness there is light,
But do not look for that light.
Light and darkness are a pair,
Like the foot before and the foot behind in walking.

–Shih’tuo, a verse from the Sandokai

Photograph: George Seeley, Black Bowl, 1907

This

We are not called upon as Buddhists to deny the world, and certainly not to escape from it. We are called to live with it, and to make our peace with all that is. The world of worries we wish to escape from in the beginning of Buddhist practice is found to be enlightenment itself in the end.

—Clark Strand, “Worry Beads” (via tricycle-tumbles)

This

(via tricycle-tumbles)

parabola-magazine: ON THE BEACH AT NIGHT ALONE On the beach at night alone,As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song,As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes and of the future. A vast similitude interlocks all,All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets,All distances of place however wide,All distances of time, all inanimate forms,All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different, or in different worlds,All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes,All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,All identities that have existed or may exist on this globe, or any globe,All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann’d,And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.–Walt Whitman (1819-1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900. Image: Walt Whitman’s cardboard butterfly from The Library of Congress. #poetry

parabola-magazine:

ON THE BEACH AT NIGHT ALONE

On the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes and of the future.
 
A vast similitude interlocks all,
All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets,
All distances of place however wide,
All distances of time, all inanimate forms,
All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different, or in different worlds,
All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes,
All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,
All identities that have existed or may exist on this globe, or any globe,
All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,
This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann’d,
And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.

–Walt Whitman (1819-1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.

Image: Walt Whitman’s cardboard butterfly from The Library of Congress.

#poetry

Like a fire, greed is more a process than a thing. It is the state of combustion, the activity of consumption, the procedure by means of which organic resources are quickly reduced to a heap of ash. It is insatiable by nature, since the moment one desire is gratified another flares up, demanding also to be sated. Greed drives an unquenchable compulsion to consume, and as the guiding hand of our economic system, its reach is rapidly becoming global. As it burns it throws off a compelling light, dazzling us with the pleasure of its shapes and colors. We delight in playing with this fire.

—Andrew Olendzki, “Burning Alive” (via tricycle-tumbles)

This

(via tricycle-tumbles)

North Woods, Central Park

Central Park Spring

Central Park Spring

aaknopf: Marge Piercy, now the author of eighteen collections of poetry, on the balance we seek. The level A great balance hangs in the skyand briefly on the black panand on the blue pan, the melonof the moon and the blood orangeof the sun are symmetricallike two unmatched eyes glowingat us with one desire.This is an instant’s equality,a level that at oncestarts to dip. In springthe sun starts up its goldenengine earlier each dawn.In fall, night soaksits dye into the edges of day.But now they hang, two brightballs teasing us to balancethe halves of our brain, needand will, gut and intellect,you and me in an instant’s grace—understanding no woman, evenGaia, can always make it work. Download a printable version of the broadside of this poem here or by clicking the image at the top of the post Learn more about The Hunger Moon and browse other titles by Marge Piercy. To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link »

aaknopf:

Marge Piercy, now the author of eighteen collections of poetry, on the balance we seek.

The level

A great balance hangs in the sky
and briefly on the black pan
and on the blue pan, the melon
of the moon and the blood orange
of the sun are symmetrical
like two unmatched eyes glowing
at us with one desire.

This is an instant’s equality,
a level that at once
starts to dip. In spring
the sun starts up its golden
engine earlier each dawn.
In fall, night soaks
its dye into the edges of day.

But now they hang, two bright
balls teasing us to balance
the halves of our brain, need
and will, gut and intellect,
you and me in an instant’s grace—
understanding no woman, even
Gaia, can always make it work.

Download a printable version of the broadside of this poem here or by clicking the image at the top of the post

Learn more about The Hunger Moon and browse other titles by Marge Piercy.

To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link »

parabola-magazine: It seems a natural thing to do in loss and grief, to light even a single candle. I had done so many times throughout the year. A miraculous glow spreads around that flame. It may shine in a chapel, where people leave their silent prayers burning at the feet of the saint, or simply on a windowsill at home. This must be an old, old desire in us—a necessity in us—to see the surprising power in one small flame of light to dispel the dark. —Barbara Helen Berger from AN OFFERING OF FLAMES: Lighting a candle, we light the world, PARABOLA, Spring 2012. Photograph: William Abranowicz, Sifnos, 1990

parabola-magazine:

It seems a natural thing to do in loss and grief, to light even a single candle. I had done so many times throughout the year. A miraculous glow spreads around that flame. It may shine in a chapel, where people leave their silent prayers burning at the feet of the saint, or simply on a windowsill at home. This must be an old, old desire in us—a necessity in us—to see the surprising power in one small flame of light to dispel the dark.

—Barbara Helen Berger from AN OFFERING OF FLAMES: Lighting a candle, we light the world, PARABOLA, Spring 2012.

Photograph: William Abranowicz, Sifnos, 1990

Many films diminish us. They cheapen us, masturbate our senses, hammer us with shabby thrills, diminish the value of life. Some few films evoke the wonderment of life’s experience, and those I consider a form of prayer. Not prayer “to” anyone or anything, but prayer “about” everyone and everything. I believe prayer that makes requests is pointless. What will be, will be. But I value the kind of prayer when you stand at the edge of the sea, or beneath a tree, or smell a flower, or love someone, or do a good thing. Those prayers validate existence and snatch it away from meaningless routine.

—Roger Ebert (via parabola-magazine)

parabola-magazine: People ought not to consider so much what they are to do as what they are; let them but be good and their ways and deeds will shine brightly. If you are just, your actions will be just too. Do not think that saintliness comes from occupation; it depends rather on what one is. The kind of work we do does not make us holy but we may make it holy. However ‘sacred’ a calling may be, as it is a calling, it has no power to sanctify; but rather as we are and have the divine being within, we bless each task we do, be it eating, or sleeping, or watching, or any other. Whatever they do, who have not much of (God’s) nature, they work in vain. —Meister Eckhart Image: Meister Eckhart, Woodcut (Date Unknown)

parabola-magazine:

People ought not to consider so much what they are to do as what they are; let them but be good and their ways and deeds will shine brightly. If you are just, your actions will be just too. Do not think that saintliness comes from occupation; it depends rather on what one is. The kind of work we do does not make us holy but we may make it holy. However ‘sacred’ a calling may be, as it is a calling, it has no power to sanctify; but rather as we are and have the divine being within, we bless each task we do, be it eating, or sleeping, or watching, or any other. Whatever they do, who have not much of (God’s) nature, they work in vain.

—Meister Eckhart

Image: Meister Eckhart, Woodcut (Date Unknown)