Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Dissolving In The Infinite

Dissolving In The Infinite

I have opened all the windows in my house 
Any words that are spoken about me
go in and out 

For I have eagles flying around inside 

Anything my ears might detect,
firsthand or second, 
I might give a moment's attention 

and then just let it be the tiny 
evaporating whiff of smoke it is,
dissolving in the Infinite. 

        The dash of reality is that people will get to you, words will be spoken that enter your mind (your home) and don't jive with the person you are. In love, you have acceptance, understanding, and appreciation. In life, you might not be fortunate to come across all aspects of this triangle every day, and when that happens, misunderstandings, hurtful comments, etc. spring forth from a lack of bond or sympathetic comprehension. Likewise, you will find people (eagles) who make you feel as though the other insignificant musings of people who don't understand are so small and so pointless. These people will remind you that symphonies are transposed into many keys so that an orchestra can emanate beautiful music (all angles and ideas are needed). They will remind you that masterpieces can be redirected by adding more lines (paths) and colors (people). These are the people worth surrounding yourself with.

       It seems the Greats really understood this battle: “To be nobody but yourself in a world, which is doing its best day and night to make you like everybody else, means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting. It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” ― e.e. cummings. I think e.e. cummings harbored the eagles within: “Always the beautiful answer who asks a more beautiful question.”

        I'll conclude with some words by Victor Hugo on obstacles: "In each age, men of genius undertake the ascent. From below, the world follows them with their eyes. These men go up the mountain, enter the clouds, disappear, reappear, People watch them, mark them. They walk by the side of precipices. They daringly pursue their road. See them aloft, see them in the distance; they are but black specks. On they go. The road is uneven, its difficulties constant. At each step a wall, at each step a trap. As they rise the cold increases. They must make their own ladder, cut the ice and walk on it, hewing the steps in haste. A storm is raging. Nevertheless they go forward in their madness. The air becomes difficult to breath. The abyss yawns below them. Some fall. Others stop and retrace their steps; there is a sad weariness. The bold ones continue. They are eyed by the eagles; the lightning plays about them: the hurricane is furious. No matter, they persevere." 

Sooner or Later (2008), Michael Tolcher

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