Sing To Me Softly Of Earth - Part Three
Bill Williams - Unsplash
© Copyright 1999 A. S. Kline All Rights Reserved
This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose.
Through all these forms, silently he plays.
In all these forms he rests, and is fettered.
Formless, only in form he finds himself.
Willing himself in all forms is his freedom,
Free of our prison he weds himself to being
Endlessly being he reveals himself.
Through all these forms we would be free of,
In this bondage that constrains us,
He is the spirit of the head that's severed.
Where he sings no time passes.
He is Bran, Orpheus, and is Siva.
Through all these forms , silently, he plays.
Keepers of fire, in the dark, remembered places
of the soul, in the depths of the mind, beyond all gods
transients of feeling, mystic names
where meaning glimmers. Our naming, and our touching.
Out of such grace, such life, such beauty comes
of what in us is source, is inception,
the bright fires of feeling, voiceless flames,
in the consonance from which our being came.
Why then are they our shadows,
still beyond us, in a past we cannot recover ?
Slowly the sun sinks under the world.
White moon rising in Aquarius,
return us to the first unknown freedom
the first exquisite freedom of the Earth
We are so unfree.
There is another truer clear dimension
where poise matters, and affection,
the first dimension where our life began.
Now with all our knowing, we could be tender
Now we could love Earth as never before,
as the first men loved before knowledge,
as the first women loved before possession,
their spirits alive in the dry grass oceans,
before we owned earth, time, each other.
The old earth, the oldest universe,
alive in the pale sky, the evening cloud.
Now we could love the glow of earth,
naked on the threshold of being,
and the Present, clearest of gifts.
No more greatness, so unfree,
The Past not delimiting, the Future not unfolding.
Waiting for the flame of life, till it comes again,
when it comes again, waiting.
It will come again.
In me like the sky, exterior mirror,
mind's outer echo, dark surface of feeling,
over which thought of you passes.
In me, not possession but relation,
silent without intention, clear
of memory, of word.
Be and become, deepening challenge,
force always new, always beyond
that which you think you are,
weakened or bounded.
In me not as you know yourself,
but as I know you, outside the limitation
world creates in its creatures, wordless now, free
Be the image, created as if without love,
so truly loved, that in the one declaration,
love pours out of the anonymous mouth,
from object to mind, so that all possible truth
murmurs inside it.
Be in the final act wholly yourself,
You who unknowingly granted all this to me,
all overflowing - You the all-human
standing against space and time, as a statue
freed by the hand stands against stones,
itself half-emerging out of its alien world.
Be both the ache and the sweetness,
dread in the veins, shaking with lightening force
the crown of the tree. Be beauty and fear.
Sing to me softly of Earth, that brings us forgiven
back to our source in the heart.
Sing of necessity greater than pleasure or pain,
purpose or understanding.
Sing to me softly of Earth, soothe the dull heart.
Declare all is to come, over and over,
again and again, Mind and its lover
Body, their book, new and unbroken.
Show me the silence that comes
when out of pure giving, suddenly spirit becomes
subtle and tender, when sex touches on sex,
like star within cloud, or moon
in the inward mirror touching on light.
Of what man has the power to know
of what man is.
( Mountains of light, staring out
across the dream of desert.
Empty earth, of being without self-knowing,
of mirrors without reflection )
There are three things to unlearn.
( Mountains of dawn, silent under morning,
above the white smoke of our footsteps)
Not to believe.
Not to follow.
Not to own.
Be, in the Moment's power.
Be, in eternity.
Be, in the silence that the world leaves
This is the only thing you are.
This is the passing hour.
This is the meaning of life's mask.
Love, and in your love be true.
Know, and in your knowing pity.
Remember, in your heart, remember.