oh how I love being so deluded

 

Andrew Wyeth: Wind from the Sea, detail

 

I was asked to find my mind

and

I failed

I was asked to find my thoughts

and

I failed

I was asked to find my self

and

I failed

 

So then it seemed timely to try to find

the I

that was so successful at failing

 

ha!

it couldn’t be found

yet

it can’t be escaped

 

oh how I love being so deluded

that simply watching words leak out of a pen

can deliver shameless delight!

 


Image: Andrew Wyeth – Wind from the Sea
Tempera on hardboard, 1947, detail
[What moves – the curtain or the wind?]
Source: Washington Post


All writing on this blog leaks from the pen of Miriam Louisa Simons.  Over at my other blog this unlit light, you’ll find more of a smorgasbord of writing, including some of my own.
I chose this WordPress theme for its uncluttered minimalism, and because it’s responsive (i.e., it displays readably on all devices).  All the links that normally appear in a sidebar or footer are hidden behind the menu icon at the top of the page.  If you feel inclined to explore the offerings posted here since 2010, please click that icon.  You’ll also find a way to follow this blog by email there.  I promise you won’t be overwhelmed – emptiness has erratic and unpredictable habits.  Posts turn up.  I marvel.

– mls
Copyright © Emptiness


schizophrenia and the sacred

351

either
I can sing about You
or
I can BE You

I used to feel torn in two
and thought I’d missed a cue
but now it’s clear:

it makes no darned difference to You!

this untreatable schizophrenia
is my natural sacred state.

either I can sing about You
Beloved
or I can BE Your roaring silence

whatever role I think I play
is You, playing for Your own delight
absorbed in either
preferring neither

it’s all the same to You!

~

I know that I know

85

floating, arms outstretched,
rolling like the playful whales
that so love this benign bay
turning down, head-first, diving,
sweeping the sandy bottoms,
rising again, breaking free into
sparkling sunlight
then doing it all again and again
delighting
in these balmy waters
called the Coral Sea

and I ask myself:
what is It that never gets wet?
what is It that never moves a muscle?
what is It that is aware-ing all this
delight?

and I know that I know,
have known It always,
have never been apart from It

and this is the greatest
delight
of all

~