Poem Of Listening
I came to the place of listening,
Where I heard a terrible thunder
And rumblings of great chaos.
Frightened, I wanted to leave
But a soft voice said, 'Please don't.'
For a long time after that
My ear could discern only sobs
Till finally, Silence came.
A mouth appeared in the darkness,
Crying, “I am the voice of the Heart! ”
From the mouth came forth
A drop of sparkling light
That was also a golden note.
The drop became a world
Which began to unfold a Story.
As I watched and listened, it led me
Down through history's chasm,
Back to the dawn of Creation.
I saw the first man, the first woman
Clothed in their naked love.
When they turned to show their faces,
I saw that each had my own face!
Reaching out their sinuous arms
They pulled me into themselves.
Then for eons, unreflecting,
I lived their pristine life.
Suddenly, even First Forms
And Faces were stripped away.
I flowed as the rhythmic bolero
Of life from the very beginning,
The Music of the Soul,
A procession of colorful garments
Woven, re-woven from fibers
Of ones that had just been discarded,
Millions of melodies' garments
Of tumult and peace alternating,
All possible permutations.
At last, I re-dressed in my own threads.
The Night of Tales was over.
I returned to myself as I had been —
But clean as a new Creation.