Mar. 21st, 2010

Issa

Mar. 21st, 2010 02:45 pm
[identity profile] sandoz-iscariot.livejournal.com
Under the image of Buddha
all these spring flowers
seem a little tiresome.
kelachrome: An odd-eyed cat. (Default)
[personal profile] kelachrome
Someone explained once how the pieces of what we are
fall downwards at the same rate
as the Universe.
The atoms of us, falling towards the centre
 
of whatever everything is. And we don't see it.
We only sense their slight drag in the lifting hand.
That's what weight is, that communal process of falling.
Furthermore, these atoms carry hooks, like burrs,
 
hooks catching like hooks, like clinging to like,
that's what keeps us from becoming something else,
and why in early love, we sometimes
feel the tug of the heart snagging on another's heart.
 
Only the atoms of the soul are perfect spheres
with no means of holding on to the world
or perhaps no need for holding on,
and so they fall through our lives catching
 
against nothing, like perfect rain,
and in the end, he wrote, mix in that common well of light
at the centre of whatever the suspected
centre is, or might have been.

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