All my life I looked for you
though I didn’t know
what I was looking for
and entered
other’s dreams of you—
though you appeared, insistent as rain
through the broken lines of each day—
in the birds muted flight
in the church bells song.
Only now do I see you are
the weave of this world, already here,
found in the stopped engines of thought.
All this time, I believed I waited for you;
when it is you who have been waiting
for me.
A beautiful poem about realizing that we have always been intimate with life. That it is the mind’s illusions that have kept us separate. The poem is written by someone who clearly has experienced this intimacy. Thank you, Ray
A beautiful poem about realizing that we are already intimate with life. It points out that our mind keeps us unaware of this intrinsic intimacy, but when our mind becomes still we wake up and see that we have always been intimate with life…from a blade of grass to infinity. This is a poem by someone who has clearly experienced intimacy directly. Thank you, a deeply insightful poem.
Thanks so much