Hanlan's Point, Sunday Afternoon

The wrack left by the flood,

and the far end of the beach gone,

no telling just where our towels lay
in other seasons. Now only
a few wading out
past the fallen trunks, then back again
into shore, and the shallow nooks
screened by half-submerged branches or open
to the lapping water’s gaze--
explorers beyond crowds glad
for another gifted day’s extension
of summer’s lease; seekers approaching
land’s end and wider freedom
in hope of something closer
to astonishment.
Which manifests
as a man standing chest-deep in ecstasy
and cradling the face
of the comerado who kneels
before him in the sand, enfleshment
of abandoned devotion.
Sheltered,
the two of them, by sunlight
and open water, by witness
of silent passersby,
their holiness balanced precariously
on this spit of land.

On the Anniversary of Creation

From Maya Angelou, “On the Pulse of Morning”

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.

Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.

Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.

No less to Midas than the mendicant.

No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

"On Rosh Hashanah...

"... we are called to judge ourselves with love; to love ourselves, and also to face the truth about our shortcomings and grave misdeeds. In our self-scrutiny we strive to emulate the true positive essence within ourselves. In our truth we cannot be fooled by evasions, or excuses. Tradition bids us to approach this day with both solemnity and joy, knowing that we will contemplate matters of life and death; and tradition reminds us, as well, that we celebrate the world's creation and our own moral rebirth."

--adapted from the Mishkan Hanefesh

"The separate self..."

"... doesn't have a point of view. It is a point of view."

 

--Rupert Spira

(With thanks to Andrew.)

Everything That Arises is Subject to Dissolution