How can I define this passion?
It s tempo and motion?
Its deep laments and pain?
It is something unspoken but felt,
Hidden but not-hidden- ‘’the Open Secret’’ says Rumi-
In the darkness I am lighted by it towards some oracle, some worthy and high
Pilgrimage, to Olympus or Delphi I do come.
My eyes are fixed upon something just beyond this horizon, some grave scene or word that is meant to ring out and grip me, to enthrall and burn to the very bone.
Where are the voices ? Coming down the mountainside and calling me to that ever-burning bush, that fiery tree on the gravelly slopes of Sinai? Why this sordid silence, this emptiness longing to be fulfilled ? The music of the soul is stilled right now. And I shed tears of separation.
How, then, shall I translate you, my Friend? My Beloved? How shall I interpret you , in some transcendent mode, bring down some epic code? How shall I address the people? How expound and enact some complex ritual of worship?
I leave now, then, towards a simplicity.
In my own reflection I see you. And that is all.
© 2016 Omer Tarin
Poets and Dreamers
San Clemente, CA
So we travel on earth seeking the terrain of Poetry, walking through wilderness and empty landscape or visiting those ancient sites like Dholavira in far-western Gujarat, or Mykenai in the Greek Peloponnese, or the Arawak campsite on eastern Carriacou in the Grenadine Windward Isles, pursuing that authenticity of experience in a form of antique material reality...
Kevin McGrath 🐚Yoga of Poetry
“Dare to live the life you have dreamed."
Receive the Poets and Dreamers Literary Journal