11-01-2012, 03:18 AM
My first poem. As with all esoteric poetry, it's meaning is hidden and subjective. Written after 5 months of studying eastern thought, western philosophy, and a few direct experiences which hold deep value for me.
All feedback welcome.
Existence
Pure solace,
I surrender and become He.
Outwards is inwards,
Both are neither.
I am the mirror to my reflections,
Only when to breathe is to die,
Will my eyes be wide.
The source is alive within itself,
Not the contained,
Nor the container,
that which watches both.
Where fire and water find middle ground
Where to be full is to be empty,
Where the purest logic is nonsense, and
Where indifference pierces the heart of distinction.
The world so small,
It’s mountains, the toes,
The veil on the cage,
The mind sews.
Summers brightest lights,
Winters heaviest snows,
Still, black nights,
Nature;
the souls clothes
Return,
Brother.
For ours,
Is a house of forgiveness.
All feedback welcome.
Existence
Pure solace,
I surrender and become He.
Outwards is inwards,
Both are neither.
I am the mirror to my reflections,
Only when to breathe is to die,
Will my eyes be wide.
The source is alive within itself,
Not the contained,
Nor the container,
that which watches both.
Where fire and water find middle ground
Where to be full is to be empty,
Where the purest logic is nonsense, and
Where indifference pierces the heart of distinction.
The world so small,
It’s mountains, the toes,
The veil on the cage,
The mind sews.
Summers brightest lights,
Winters heaviest snows,
Still, black nights,
Nature;
the souls clothes
Return,
Brother.
For ours,
Is a house of forgiveness.