I Said to the Wanting Creature, by Kabir

I Said to the Wanting Creature

I said to the wanting-creature inside me:
What is this river you want to cross?
There are no travelers on the river-road, and no road.
Do you see anyone moving about on that bank, or nesting?
There is no river at all, and no boat, and no boatman.
There is no tow rope either, and no one to pull it.
There is no ground, no sky, no time, no bank, no ford!

And there is nobody, and no mind!
Do you believe there is some place that will make the
soul less thirsty?
In that great absence, you will find nothing.

Be strong then, and enter into your own body;
there you have a solid place for your feet.
Think about it carefully!
Don't go off somewhere else!

Kabir says this: just throw away all thoughts of imaginary
things,
and stand firm in that which you are.
 

I Said to the Wanting Creature, by Kabir, trans. Robert Bly

Cutting Loose, by William Stafford

Cutting Loose

Sometimes from sorrow, for no reason,
you sing. For no reason,
you accept
the way of being lost, cutting loose
from all else and electing
a world
where you go where you want to.
Arbitrary, a sound comes, a
reminder
that a steady center is holding
all else. If you listen, that
sound
will tell you where it is and you
can slide your way past
trouble.
Certain twisted monsters
always bar the path—but that’s
when
you get going best, glad to be lost,
learning how real it is
here
on earth, again and again.

Cutting Loose, by William Stafford

Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way

Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way

If you're John Muir you want trees to
live among.  If you're Emily, a garden
will do.
Try to find the right place for yourself.
If you can't find it, at least dream of it.

When one is alone and lonely, the body
gladly lingers in the wind or the rain,
or splashes into the cold river, or
pushes through the ice-crusted snow.

Anything that touches.

God, or the gods, are invisible, quite
understandable.  But holiness is visible,
entirely.

Some words will never leave God's mouth,
no matter how hard you listen.

In all the works of Beethoven, you will
not find a single lie.

All important ideas must include the trees,
the mountains, and the rivers.

To understand many things you must reach out
of your own condition.

For how many years did I wander slowly
through the forest.  What wonder and
glory I would have missed had I ever been
in a hurry!

Beauty can both shout and whisper, and still
it explains nothing.

The point is, you're you, and that's for keeps.

-- Mary Oliver
from the collection "Felicity"

paradise, by Teresa Williams

paradise

is the moment
you realize
you've never been
apart from it

it is the bookstore
on Tuesdays   scent of scones
and word blossoms
it is the dahlia    autumn lantern
the warm mug in your hand
it is all this exchanging
of light   hello and goodbye and
how are you

it is the decision you make
to let it all in

the rainbows    the dead crow
the hurt knee
a black cloud in the face
your incapacities    your strengths
hurricanes and earthquakes
even deep down pain
the kind that wants to hide
behind hate

when
everything belongs
paradise
isn't somewhere else

it is here
it is us

it is loving
Life itself.

-- Teresa Williams