To live only for some future goal is shallow. It's the sides of the mountain that sustain life, not the top.
*Robert M. Persig. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
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Written after visitng a patient and her son.
He sits weeping, phone in hand and against right ear, bent over, face in hands.
I recall my mother's body dying. Whom he calls "mother" is dying.
I pray silently. About what? Nothing. Just Here Praying. Possibly, better, Just Here. Or, Here With, or Here In.
He cries. Nothing to do; doing takes place. A Rose smells of Itself.
Purpose? Love happens. Not any particular Love.
What is accomplished? Who knows? Why the question? Does there have to be - need to be - a goal?
I am the Chaplain - they say-, but Here is no Chaplain
- but Someone lives inside this, Someone who can look in. -
This is Love. Life.
Questions? Walk in the rain to know wetness, don't just talk about it or ask someone to tell you about it.
One can only tell about, not It.
Take a stroll, quietly smiling in the Sunlight. Where is the Sun? Breathe in and out Light. Love.
I don't need some heaven to get to. Why would I - anyone - Here?
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*(C) Brian K. Wilcox, 2024. Permission is given to use photographs and writings with credit given to the copyright owner.
*Brian's book is An Ache for Union: Poems on Oneness with God through Love. The book is a collection of poems Brian wrote based on wisdom traditions, predominantly Christian, Buddhist, and Sufi, with extensive notes on the poetry's teachings and imagery.
