Completeness of creation not in a single great work but in an endless stream of small ones |
Reflections __________________________________________________ I had been toying with the thought of writing an epic…………… Immersed in the ‘big I’, in hubris and isolation I imagined A Homer, a Virgil, Milton or Dante’s Inferno Until, stumbling into Your mysterious darkness My musings were shattered into separate grains. Through that divine mishap My epic was scattered to the winds As tiny particles and sparks dancing like fireflies in the dark And You let me ‘see’………. I saw You in jagged mountain peaks Arms reaching out to the heavens in anguish I saw Your ripples on the lake I heard Your whisper as you blew through the forest I heard You in the rustle of fallen leaves journeying back to the rhythms of your heart I saw, I heard, I smelled, I tasted, I touched and I felt.... I hung my backpack on a crag The mosses were too deep to sweep away And on its soft carpet I lay down Baring my head to the autumn wind that blew through the pine trees I did not know from where it came I couldn’t forget its call and I felt its gentle touch Naked I lay in the dark forest, naked to the world Naked to the rocks, naked to the hungry stones Naked to the ellipse of the night sky Naked, looking up into Your vast darkness above which a million stars shone Naked in union, locked in the gaze of the omnipresent eye And words began to flow in an endless stream a little at a time, in particles, jottings and sparks in dreams a little at a time In unveiling one mystery, ten more emerged from the darkness of swaying trees and apparitions a divine boon for this night-bird of poetry Each mystery magnified and engulfed the muse And brought forth a song In particles, jottings and sparks A little at a time And the divine poetry of Your perfection Discovering, uncovering, unweaving singing Your melody to all who cared to listen A desire to create through unfinished imperfect living Striving for the best Creating through the completeness of living through an endless stream of words, of particles, jottings and sparks bit by bit by bit... only a little at a time. And, I had been toying With the thought of writing an epic………… |