In a group meditation last night, I saw a mandala of our Earth
and I wondered if I could draw it. I was anxious about that,
and awoke this morning, looking for a poem that could still
my dampening of that experience.
Here it is:
” …..What is precious, is never to forget
The delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love,
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the Spirit.”
The mandala of the Earth, this green planet,
the delight in our blood that sings in the stones
and breaks through rocks as water,
water that sustains the leviathans and the sea shell.
That’s a beginning. maybe it will never be drawn,
but its genesis is alive and well.
with love …