in a moment
where the mind reaches relative silence
the light captivates and dances its own dance
energy circulating in orbits
yellow and white
mingling
with spurs of elliptical spheres.


transfixed
not yet transformed
witnessing this
with the observer still present.

moths flying into the
illuminated grid
not able to penetrate
to the core of energy
yet not content to remain outside.

willing to die
for a touch of that luminescence

how much like a moth
Am I?

Comments

nina said…
Oh my gosh, the metaphor of the moth, some so lovely with patterns and colors woven into gossamer wings, lingering in death on screen doors for Izzy bluebelly to swallow in one hard gulp.
Evil, though it works to fascinate, is the porn of psychopaths.
You know, porn that extincted European honeybees to mandate paturization of almonds and broke the farmers' generational backs so they could not afford their lands which today belch the noxious emissions of big agra which pretends to be carbon taxable which fixes no infrastructure but builds orgasmic death technologies.
nobody said…
Very nice. But it struck some curious chords for me. My evening entertainment here is to stand on the balcony, cig in hand, watching the geckos that spend all night on the flyscreen. They're waiting for moths (or anything else) to alight. Before you're tempted to weave the geckos into the metaphor, you need to know that geckos are beloved. They run around inside the house and only a know-nothing would kill one.

Oh! I just wondered if you have them in SA? Maybe you do. God forbid I should teach someone to suck eggs, ha ha.

And apropos your question earlier re the weather (which I failed to answer, sorry. Just put it down to dizziness), I haven't noticed anything too weird. The weather here is as changeable as the proverbial. Mind you, last year we had a biggest-ever tropical depression that whipped up swells that took all the sand off the beach. Mind you, it came back. It can do that apparently. Ciao.
Anonymous said…
Our lives are no longer or shorter--we just have watches and calendars-and average life span tables designed by insurance companies-

in the perfect lack of light, eyes beginning to squint
from lack of closure
when the eyes grow sandman weary is when the moths grow comet tails
and
all is behind them
and then,
and then.......
Jj
Anonymous said…
Re: your comment/poem at Ninas' outside/outside
We can observe
We Can laugh
We can cry
We can be wise
We can have many
Or none

But that human touch is where the magic lay--sparkling, warming
Soothing
Smiling
Knowing
All in the touch of one to another

Jj
nina said…
Nobody, Izzy is what we call the Lizards out here. There's Iz and Ms. Iz, and little izzy, mini-izzy and dizzy gillespie and many more. We go to great pains to ensure they have long life since they are a Raptors' delicacy. Put stick ladders in watering holes to allow them to climb out, etc. The ones out here are diamondback with lapis lazuli underparts which is the side we see on the other side of the screens. Moths attracted to the home lights have never been rescued in time to deprive Izzy. You would think in all this time moths have been around, they'd get wise, but no. Meanwhile, most Izzy's don't make it through the season without losing their tails to a Sharpshin.
susana said…
Nina,
I am beginning to question the notion of evil being a separate force to good.
Perhaps it is one field with both arising on it.
Have spent so long avoiding evil that story upon story have been built upon it.
And also evil backwards is live.
Perhaps evil is simply a by product of this thing called life.

Nobody - we worship geckos here - actually we worship pretty much everything with four legs and a tail.

Jj - and then:
in the comets tail
flows the awakening light
looks like destruction
but I know its going to be alright.

That human touch is the balm that has made all of Brahmans wakings bearable and inspired.
Nothing so electrifying and calming as the other reaching towards and resting upon our landscape.

Had a dream last night that there was a young woman/child in the middle east who was embracing the children.
Those traumatised by the sound and the loss and the horror, would find themselves in her arms.
In holding them, peace descended.
In this dream it was palpable.
I never did see her face, just her hands and the outline of her body.

I am hoping with all hope, that where we see the horrors of war that behind the scenes, there are moments of profound grace and acceptance.
susana said…
A letter I wrote to a being who has slipped off the veil of illusion.

"Does any of your attention go to the arising of the war in Palestine?
Does anger arise?
Does horror arise?"

The reply:
"Anything can arise - but is there a palestine or israel separate from what you are or what I am? Can Self or God or Oneness fight with itself, kill itself? Who stands apart as separate to be angry or horrified?

Love includes both relative love and hate, for "this and that". Peace means the openness for both peace and war to arise. And these are seen to be already the case once true violence is known - the illusion and ignorance of the belief of separation/individuality.

Yet even that belief is another perfect unfolding within what you are. So where shall we go from here?"
Anonymous said…
Su,
The young woman in the dream is you--

Jj
nobody said…
I'm not sure if this is germane. Maybe.

I don't kill much of anything apart from mosquitoes. I tend to shepherd everything from spiders to beetles. It's all good for one's fuzzy Buddhist glow until unexpected things happen. On three occasions I've released bugs: a Christmas beetle, a grasshopper, and huntsman spider out through the window back into the world only to see them instantly taken by birds. Quicker than you could blink. I didn't save them, I condemned them.

Okay so they're only bugs and at least the birds had a feed. But either way, lives were snuffed out. And those geckos that I love, if they were fool enough to come out in the daylight (which happens) they'd instantly be taken by the butcherbirds that I also love. They'd beat them to death, jam then on the nearest spike, and call the kids over.

Where am I going with this? Hell if I know. I'm still trying to figure it out.
susana said…
So let us continue.
I once had a sangoma in my employ.
One day a big fat toad hopped up to her cottage door, she smiled with delight and said great he came to give me medicine.
With typical anglo saxon attitude I picked up the toad and took him to the bamboo some distance away.
20 minutes later he was back at the door.
Again she smiled thanking him for coming to give her medicine.
Again I intervened and took toad down the river to the distant waterfall.
The next morning he was there at her door again.
Good medicine.
And as for mosquitoes - killed 20 before I climbed into bed last night.
What is that thing about first do no harm..........
nina said…
Some draw the line at "in the house". That's good, we need a line drawn. Outside, all should be free to live without our interference. Experience proves again and again, screaming GO AWAY to the hawks robbing nests doesn't work very well. But if they were doing this inside our personal domain, then we are correct in leveling the playing field with a broom.
nobody said…
Now you've got me curious Susana. What was the medicine? Or was it his mere presence somehow?

And Nina, you are the voice of common sense.
Anonymous said…
Don't worry about the mosquitoes--it's OK if it's in self-defense.
Nina has her broom-(no, that's too easy so I won't even go there)-I have one too but it's a 12 gauge model.
We have a little Shelty whose job it is to chase every bird that even approaches the yard whether by land, air, or sea--and the 16 cats are thankful when it comes to hawks and owls.

Jj
brian kennedy said…
When I was doing time down in Mexico, every week the cells got sprayed with insecticide during the "telacha." (clean-up) There were a lot of cockroaches and "cheenchees" ( stealth bedbugs that hide in tiny cracks and zip out and nail you with multiple very itchy bites.) I asked that my little zone not be sprayed, I figured the ddt was worse than the bugs. Consequently my place became the bug refuge and cockroach population climbed. Cheenchees were rare so it seemed to be working out--I had never seen one or been bitten, I wondered if they were folklore. It became more and more common to have a cockroach walk across me at night. Then they started drinking my sweat on my chest, which I allowed. Then they started to nibble. At that point I freaked and asked for genocide by resumption of spraying, which was done. The cockroaches became much less in evidence. Shortly after the fumes had gone away, I was sitting on my bed during the daytime, surveying the scene. A little bug suddenly emerged from the tiniest crack in the bedframe, ran up to my thigh, bit me and dashed back into the crack before I could think "Hey, that must have been a cheenchee." It was clearly very angry.
susana said…
Jj,
I love hawks and owls. Whenever I see an owl I feel especially blessed.
Always have.
Brian I can imagine the bugs in your corner feeling rather special and select.
Maybe they even hailed you as an unusual human.
Perhaps they even worshiped you.


Bugs are beautiful if they respect personal space.
Had a spider bite me yesterday, the bite formed into a cluster of blisters.
Someone said its cytotoxic or something and one should go on medication as the poison eats into the flesh.
Having done my town trip for the month already I threw some hydrogen peroxide onto it and a whole lot of stuff came bubbling up and it appears to have mended.
I cannot recommend this substance enough.

Nobody - You know I forgot what is was for. Obviously not blow away magic.
I know vultures are used for invisibility - like the cash heist gangs all use sangoma magic to keep from being arrested. And for that potion its the skanky vulture.
Problem is vultures are becoming endangered.
I reckon Robert Mugabe uses very powerful magic.
I saw a picture of him a few days ago and he looks younger then ever, despite the stress and strain.
And his people don't even rise up against him - that sure is magic.
Anyway - shew what a verbal outpouring.

Night all.

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