Well hello there Disappointment! You’ve been on my mind of late. I’ve been reflecting on how your gracious appearances in my life were usually both misunderstood and unappreciated. And I reckon I owe you an apology. It’s a bit late coming, but since you are surely impervious to expectation I doubt that will bother you too much.
This morning these words lined up unbidden. They made me smile; I thought you might like to read them.
your thumping Grace opened up
a view without a viewer
a life without an agenda
a heart at home in its hallowed holiness
your diamond-edged scalpel
shaved clean the fluff and fantasy
excising my every erudite question
leaving no trace –
not even a shadow of ‘understanding’
a phantom could claim as ‘I am’
or even I am not
you turned me towards your ruthless kindness
revealing every betrayal and abuse
every heart-break and aching longing
to be an instant portal
to the eye-popping Knowing
that is unknowable
beyond, so utterly beyond,
where every word is empty, hollow, meaningless
and all there is to do is giggle
at this glorious ever-unfurling
are you not the supreme guide and guru?
is there a faster track to seamless intimacy
with the everyday world of multiplicity?
could there be a greater blessing than your quiet interest
in our stumblings towards the light?
oh have me so completely
that true vulnerability is birthed
. . .
Image: Johannes Vermeer: A Lady Writing, detail.
Source – Artmight.com
9 thoughts on “dear disappointment”
vermeer is the one whos paintings always make me tear up in joy
It’s about that vulnerability, isn’t it, Leelah – the innocence that needs no defense. Radical surrender to the fearless suchness that is our true moment-by-moment experience – free from memory and the impulse to put it to “rights” or expect anything better.
Vermeer’s paintings “tear me up” too. Look at the way she’s eyeing us, that lady. Without rancor or self-consciousness, simply “Oh there you are!” Awareness meeting Awareness.
Love to you!
Miriam, “you” have been given the gift to pour No-thing into hallowed true words that hit the mark – isn’t that a paradox in Itself!
That paradox – it struck me too – as the words that can only lie spill onto the page and “hit the mark” – oh truly wondrous! I’m beginning to appreciate the magic of poetry. (But I’ll never be a poet!) He he. xox
That’s the fun thing about No-thing, you can put on any adjective and it doesn’t mean anything! Poetess or word scribe or spirit tender…….but somehow, isn’t curious how the words still flow – all these words written from the space of No-thingness,
thanks for being a wonderful listener and devotee
HEHEHE HAHAHA LOLOL 🙂
You are so welcome dear LB 🙂