Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Poem by Cindy Gregg
Monday
by Cindy Gregg
On this first day of November
it is cold as a cave,
the sky the color
of neutral third parties.
I am cutting carrots
for the chicken soup.
Knife against carrot
again and again
sends a plop of pennies
into the pan.
These cents,
when held to the gray light,
hold no noble president,
only stills
of some kaleidoscope
caught being pensive...
and beautiful,
in the eye of this beholder,
who did not expect
this moment of marvel
while making an early supper
for the hungry children.
One of the great delights of life is the pleasure of the unexpected revelation. It could be almost anything--light on a stone wall, copper leaves arranging themselves into intriguing patterns on the sidewalk, a tree revealing its majesty in moonlight. These momentary joys come upon us unbidden--there is no way we can arrange for them beforehand. They are akin to what James Joyce called an "epiphany."
The word "epiphany" (a "showing forth") derives from that time in the Mass when the priest lifts the sacred crucible and the holy presence descends. Joyce used the term to describe moments such as the above, when sudden beauty or essence reveals itself and one perceives a reality beneath the the surface appearance.
These experiences are precious--they feed our inner yearning for connection with that which exists beyond the observable. They are not the bliss of Kundalini, which can operate with no external image or action. But they are, nonetheless, products of a slightly altered consciousness. It is said that saints may exist in this level of consciousness all the time, and that, for them, even the humblest object is seen in its full beauty.
Kundalini awakening can lead to such states, when one perceives beauty everywhere, the "beauty beneath the beauty."
