joy and sorrow
She,
whom princes used to dream of,
bestowed her Love in a Dream,
understanding grace, streaming poetry,
she turned aside,
all alone on her journey,
to preserve Love’s truth, unhidden.
Here it remains, untarnished.
If there are any wishing
to utter falsehoods of it,
it is glimmering, undiminished,
in passive silence.
January 29th, 2006 at 4:17 pm
Great Link!
The Cauldron of Motion
bestows, is bestowed
extends, is extended
nourishes, is nourished
magnifies, is magnified
invokes, is invoked
sings, is sung
preserves, is preserved
arranges, is arranged
supports, is supported.
It’s almost like
what we do,
will define what we become.
“If we…, then we are…’ ???
January 29th, 2006 at 5:30 pm
Or… beingness is defined by actions. The Irish language itself is interesting, everything has a sort of personification or “beingness”. For example, in Gaeilge (Irish Gaelic) they’ll say something like : tiredness is on me.
The linked article is all about a very ancient Irish way of doing both poetry and magic (the art of satire was something that could inflict and ruin kings), and yet, it is also a sort of philosophy for life. Kind of Zen-like.