All who seek you
test you.
And those who find you
bind you to image and gesture.
I would rather sense you
as the earth senses you.
In my ripening
ripens
what you are.
I need from you no tricks
to prove you exist.
Time, I know,
is other than you.
No miracles, please.
Just let your laws
become clearer
from generation to generation.
I came across the myth of Parsifal and could not help but notice the rich symbolism and metaphors. Parsifal is the story of a “fool’s journey”. A young man, so innocent and humble, that he does not even have a name has an experience of a inner mystical truth, a first touch of consciousness, but is not ready for it. After twenty years of searching the Holy Grail, many trials and tribulations, another chance is offered, and this time he succeeds in asking the right question that heals the ailing Fisher King (another profound metaphor for the wounds we have received in this lifetime and must heal).
A myth is a living thing. It is giving us guidance when we need it, where we need it. The story of Parsifal is incredibly rich in pointers and guidance – it reads like the detailed instruction for the proper living and acceptance of the life’s journey, if one looks beyond the symbolic meaning of the protagonists and events of the story.
There is one subject in particular, that I started to really understand in it’s significance. It is about the relation we have to our inner life, and the development it takes over the course of the years and coming of age, as well as the many pitfalls and traps that can be avoided, when we listen to the right counsel.
So please follow me into this enquiry:
THE WIND NOT OF AIR
by Justme
‘Go away oh wind so cold, your stabbing knives
Of force are not welcome here’
‘Who could create such a vile and unwanted thing?’
Oxygen, my food, so very near.
Yet, you force my breath as I gulp for life,
‘You chase it from me and distract upon my memory, when once upon a time
This man was free’
Go away that I may think, you thumping,drunken,slapping stink.
I AM THE WIND.
Cry not oh human upon a memory, yet forget the wind
For it held you close and tucked you neath the ancient heavenly stars
It never once asked, if you have ever sinned
It’s thundering words came like showers
Shivering through the fields and rivers, trees and flowers
For I, I am the wind, I hold the memory of yesteryear
And then, and now
Feel my touch of love, feel my warmth chase away and steer
Around your fingers, I wrap and tangle and show you how
The dream of memory is always near,
And yet
I hold also the promises of tomorrow, without your fear.
For I am the wind that started there and here
Though I be turbulent, tumultuous and wild
Also can I be caressingly near
Gentle and innocent
Holding the emptiness and potentiality of any mothers child.
Close your eyes and touch my emptiness
That you may feel my fullness and allow me,
to carry you
My source, my friend, my forever master
Let go and let me sway and swing you homeward,
Now and,
Ever faster.
And a wind not of air but of spirit passed through me
The veil it dropped the clouds they cleared
The road raised up, the forests cheered
It lifted me high so I could see.
Perfect stillness
This man is free.
Listen to one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written.
Love-Song
How shall I hold my soul so it does not
touch on yours. How shall I lift it
over you to other things?
Ah, willingly I’d store it away
with some lost thing in the dark,
in some strange still place, that
does not tremble when your depths tremble.
But all that touches us, you and me,
takes us, together, like the stroke of a bow,
that draws one chord out of the two strings.
On what instrument are we strung?
And what artist has us in their hand?
O sweet song.
R.M.Rilke ” Neue Gedichte”
“The moment is not only about Mubarak stepping down, it is also about people’s power to bring about the change that no-one … thought possible.”
The Living Room 