Open Poetry #45 |
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Bright Light Over Lake Narcissus |
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Kosmic888 Junior Member
since 2009-11-01
Posts 29Vancouver Canada |
Earth made flesh in the mind of man As Bright Light flickers, Then crashes in pounding waves Upon the dusty shores of lake Narcissus, That vaporous mirror on which the drama of life Is observed and eventually understood As the play of Bright Light itself. Light-stringed puppets reflected Against a dark canvas, Domain of she, the goddess of night supreme, Cloaked in the guise of Love, Bright Light’s eternal consort in this play of ‘other’; Her brush breathing life into The seed of every yielding fruit, Every savoury herb, here, Amid the sweet grasses of Eden Lying asunder under her fertile sky of dark. And so it is that Bright Light, being without form, Gathers the dust of the earth And shapes man, womb-man, The apple and the serpent From his shapeless void, birthing souls; Souls lured by the rhythm of Love’s four winds, Their hearts being danced upon by the Bright Light that summoned them. And Bright Light, Being prior to the mind of mortal man, Seeing only Itself reflected Upon the surface of her moist canvas, Sees that it’s all good. Now, a great flood of desire is made to stir In the immaculate womb of the Night Goddess, There, under space’s firmament of sensual longing Drawing Bright Light within her Self And weaving into form every thoughtless feeling Impressed upon her by the mind of man, Thus swelling her with child. With time, in space, the newborn is seen, and praised, And loved; and the newborn grows to see, and praise, And love - a gesture of re-warding the very life-force That sprouted its being from the pod of darkness. It is said that this cycle can never be broken, And it never has. It is the sacred dance of Bright Light in the realm of the Goddess; Motionless Light in the domain of Love. Timelessness in the realm of space. Where is the illusion then, that death is inevitable? Is it not founded in the perception of time itself? The perception that creates a wound so deep in The lover, who feels that the object Of his love will eventually die? Perceived time is nothing more than a longing in space. In Truth, neither Bright Light, nor Love, long While drifting in the kingdom of eternity. Love is what allows time and space To even appear in the mind of man; Light is a gift of vision within space, true seeing, Ablaze by the sheer force of thoughtless feeling; That bright spark in the heart of every man, Allowing, by Grace, the mind of man to really see That Bright Light walks a narrow path, And that all paths gather at one central point. That point is Love. Still, the mind of man is always on edge, Wandering on the periphery of Bright Light and Love. And Love is where all storms gather, Causing waves upon the waters To be swallowed whole by the famished sea-mother Who delights in devouring her young. Yes, the vast ocean of time-space Is the edible realm, you see; Where every one and every thing preys On some form or other, Where every one and every thing consumes Or is being consumed Amid great fear and objection. Have you not noticed this? Death, then, appears real, therefore inevitable. Before death one must relinquish This impulse to fall from Love, And to dance down the Bright Light, Now, and now, and now. There is no need to bring The children forth out of Egypt Nor part the sea leading into Israel. Freedom is not elsewhere. Simple awareness of bondage Is the truth that sets one free. Truth is being conscious of what is, Not what will apparently be the case At some point in time. One cannot move from bondage Into everlasting Freedom. Be mindful of what is binding you And the hand that parts the sea Frees you in that very moment. There is really no time, and no space, No distance at all between bondage and Freedom. What is reflected against the misty lake of Narcissus Is simply the refusal to be happy. Doesn’t the sun sit still behind shifting clouds? Where is darkness when the Greater Light Swallows all and All? Darkness is an error in the mind of man, Spinning thoughts in egocentric fashion; Not unlike planet earth in its motion around the sun, Hence the shadow world. Objects do not vanish by going somewhere else. Objects vanish when they’re outshined by Bright Light. So, when objects have disappeared, where are the shadows? ©2009 thethumbs.ca |
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© Copyright 2009 J Ronald Gildart - All Rights Reserved | |||
ThisDiamond Member Rara Avis
since 2002-02-22
Posts 9353Michigan, USA |
Superb. A breathtaking landscape. |
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AncientHippie Member
since 2009-10-15
Posts 411Surfing the Cosmic Flow |
Ronald, this is epic, man! It is so completely refreshing to read a totally spiritual piece without once using the dogma of established religion. So very well thought out: so very well presented. I love how the work starts with Lake Narcissus, and cycles through the body of the poem to end there. I especially enjoyed the profoundness of "...Freedom is not elsewhere. Simple awareness of bondage Is the truth that sets one free. Truth is being conscious of what is,..." So good to read someone who believes as I do. Thank you so very much. Namaste Jim "We are stardust: we are golden: and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden." --Joni Mitchell "Woodstock" |
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Kosmic888 Junior Member
since 2009-11-01
Posts 29Vancouver Canada |
AncientHippie & This Diamond: Thanks so much for the comments, I really appreciate it ![]() |
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