Showing posts with label knowing the Self. Show all posts
Showing posts with label knowing the Self. Show all posts

Friday, April 18, 2014

Meeting the Bar—Self Portraits

1986


I have been my own worst
enemy in life but also
the soul
who saved me.

I have not looked at myself
enough to know,
or care,
what I truly look like.

I am beginning
to look inwardly and so
I see
my eyes for the first time.

I see myself through
the eyes of the pets
I love
and who have loved me.

My pet peeves are these:
dogmatism, jingoism,
racism,
fundamentalism, consumerism.

I love trees, the ocean,
all animals, quite
a few
people, literature, music, silence.

I value authenticity, simplicity,
honesty, dexterity,
equality,
jocundity, virtuosity, equanimity.

I am grateful for sunny
days, rainy nights,
one tiny bud,
a field of flowers, and love.

Love and beauty
always wanted to guide me--
I did not
pay enough attention when young.

Love and beauty
call to me still and now
I listen
to them more and more and more.



Written for MeetingTheBar—Self Portraits, at dVerse Poets Pub, hosted this week by Brian Miller. Brian challenged us to "write a self portrait poem. It can be symbolic, metaphorical, descriptive—you get to choose what you show and what you veil." Not an easy prompt!

.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Everything he wrote is golden


Dirt Tracings by Eric Vondy



The day was when I did not keep myself in readiness for thee; 
and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common
crowd, unknown to me, my king thou didst press the signet
of eternity upon many a fleeting moment of my life.

And to-day when by chance I light upon them and see thy
signature, I find they have lain scattered in the dust mixed with
the memory of joys and sorrows of my trivial days forgotten.

Thou didst not turn in contempt from my childish play
among dust, and the steps that I heard in my playroom are
the same that are echoing from star to star.

 ~by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) Indian poet, playwright and essayist;
won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913.

 ~~~



This is Number Eight in a randomly-posted, continuing series of quotes by Tagore. 
Everything he wrote is golden.
Number One
Number Two
Number Three
Number Four
Number Five

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