Tag Archives: Life
From Mt. Kailas,birthplace of Shiva,Lord of All,the snow slides down the Himalayasmelting into pure waterand becomes Gangathe holiest of rivers. Absorbing the works of natureand of man, it flowspast temples, villages,rice fields and factories,and Calcutta slums,and comes,at last, to meet … Continue reading
“In and out the windowsas we have done before.” Moving in and out of beingstopping just this side of seeing,in and out of life they pass,kestrel, robin, spider, mouse.Each their special shapes they wear,striving on from here to there.From here … Continue reading
Labyrinths are mind-madeand vanish when the mind stops.(Do the Minotaurs vanish too?) Life is a Labyrinth.Garden gate – Conception.Front door – Birth.A thousand mazesbranch off to every room.Every room with its viewleads to the Back Door.(Is the Minotaur waiting there … Continue reading
“Oh Life! Thou Nothing’s younger Brother!So like, one might mistake Thee for the other!” (Oh Death! Thou Sleep’s forgotten Mother!So gentle, one might mistake Thee for the other!) “Eternity is in love with the products of Time.” (The Sun shinesin … Continue reading
Consciousness is Lifeis the Light that lighteth Everymanthat cometh into the world. Everyman is not that Lightbut can become a witness of that light;that, seeing it, othersmay believemay becomechildren of that Light,may dispelthe Darknessof the Children of this World. .
STILLNESS isthe space between movementsthe crack in the universethe gloved handwith the artto pull aparttwo thin life stitchesand let a stab of nothing in.An eyewith sky behindfor mind,a face blind,a sunflower petal fallingstamen to earth;or bird-song-bird callingeither side of the … Continue reading
The patience of the old woman:raveling and unraveling somebody’s memorieslike skeins of wool,to darn the tattered coveringof an ever-fading lifein which,according to somebody’s memories,she was once a womanand a wife. The patience of the sick:waiting for the stab of the … Continue reading
It is not Atlas who carries on his shoulders the world with all its teeming life forms its cities and citizens its poets and fools. It is the breath of life which fans the vital heat each time it cools. … Continue reading
It is not Atlas who carries on his shoulders the world with all its teeming life forms, its cities and citizens its poets and fools. It is the breath of life which fans the vital heat each time it cools. … Continue reading
STILLNESS is the space between movements the crack in the universe the gloved hand with the art to pull apart two thin life stitches and let a stab of nothing in.