Phot courtesy of: ‘Golden Butterfly’ by Anemone123 – Pixabay
https://tinyurl.com/y7qwsuxx
MAGIC OF TIME…
“Our usual understanding of IMPERMANENCE is rough and undeveloped, but a deeper understanding emerges when we focus more closely. IF WE ARE SENSITIVE TO THE INSTANTLY DISAPPEARING COMPOUND NATURE OF TIME PAST, TIME PRESENT, AND TIME FUTURE —’gone again’ from moment to moment -— the strong awareness comes that experience is its own compounded transition. Without undermining what appears, REALITY EXHIBITS ITS INSUBSTANTIALITY. In one sense the rational structures of time collapse into incoherence; in another sense they are unaffected. We can let go of our attachment to the rational together with the wish to reject or transcend the rational; let go of old forms together with the impulse to reject old forms.
Once we let go of the substantial, we are left with the magic of manifestation. Marvelously we interpret and experience; mysteriously time exhibits and projects. Engaged with this dynamic mystery, this inexhaustible openness, we are close to nuclear time.â€
….’Dynamics of Time and Space’, by Tarthang Tulku, p. 157-8
NOVEMBER DAY
by Ken McKeon
It’s a day of only a few
Thinned out strands of slightest cloud forms,
No rain to come from those,
And the spring’s still far away,
I find myself an ever older selfie,
A fade out caught up in thin light,
Slumped in a chair, hanging out, nodding off
Into a golden butterfly,
It rests on a sprinkler head,
It spirals off in flight,
Then it draws itself back again,
It’s after moisture, it must be,
On this dry day.
Neither of us is just out of the box,
We are close to being fully spent out things,
O slightest child, O bulbous me,
Disintegration time is almost here,
We will soon be both cut down to a bare subatomic
Buzzy floating in the vastly churning,
Birthing, dying, amplitudes of the whole Big Bang,
Imagine that,
It’s there we’ll meet,
We two as one,
What then, my fellow child, my failing friend?
In truth, I do not know,
But I tell you what,
Let’s show ourselves today
As the best sylvan godheads we can be,
While we’re both winged and alive
Even though we’re soon to be
Dried out, shadowy, partial, dying things,
Mere echoings of sun fade,
Wind blow, stumblings, rain wish,
I have a thought to climb the skies
With you again,
But I’ll settle for your
Resting on my hand
On this November day.
Beautiful quote, beautiful poem, together contributing to a glimpse of a greater wholeness–rather like the butterfly and the poet, who it seems is not noticeably held back in his galloping, Pegasus flight, even though he is not feeling his oats on this November morning.