True light.
What is out there is preferable-
what comes through is filtered.
Out there or in here?
Trapped.
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License.
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Welcome to "When I Wax"-- a place to escape the pedants and wax poetic, or even wax artistic.
The mythologist Joseph Campbell was asked by an interviewer how a regular person could preserve his sense of the mythic when so many feel too besieged by the claims of every day living. He said, "You must have a place to which you can go, in your heart, in your mind, or your house, almost every day, where you do not know what you owe anyone or what anyone owes you. You must have a place you can go to where you do not know what your work is or who you work for, where you do not know who you are married to or who your children are."
When I Wax is such a place for me. Blogging drafts of poetry and other sundries is like practice fly-casting on the front lawn... it may look silly, but it's effective...
The mythologist Joseph Campbell was asked by an interviewer how a regular person could preserve his sense of the mythic when so many feel too besieged by the claims of every day living. He said, "You must have a place to which you can go, in your heart, in your mind, or your house, almost every day, where you do not know what you owe anyone or what anyone owes you. You must have a place you can go to where you do not know what your work is or who you work for, where you do not know who you are married to or who your children are."
When I Wax is such a place for me. Blogging drafts of poetry and other sundries is like practice fly-casting on the front lawn... it may look silly, but it's effective...
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CURRENT MOON
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Thank you
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
George Gordon Byron
The Destruction of Sennacherib
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2 comments:
what is out there is fallen.
a filter purifies.
the only True Light is face to Face.
You trap yourself.
Such certainty. Oh how I love such certainty. Certain to have certain opinions. I don't know who you are, "The Game," and yet your certainty is very well known to me. Thanks for your thoughts.
Are you so certain what is fallen?
Light is out there. The very source of it, low and appearing blue for only seconds on this occasion, Christmas Eve. And it pierces and penetrates. The first revelation is out there in all its glory where life feeds on life in endless and beautiful cycles. Facade, artifice, and the avarice of dogma are the mortar and bricks of hollow institutions stagnating before our very eyes. Inside-- churches, and mosques and temples.
Filters filter. Filters separate. Filters extract the larger particles,perhaps the larger ideas, perhaps the larger souls. Purification requires a great deal more than filtration, I regret to remind.
I trap myself only when I subject myself to the dogma of certainty, when I entertain false dichotomies that require a choice between a God and her creation, a fate akin to slitting ones wrist in order to quench one's thirst.
...and the only True Light is face to Face.
pax
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