Monday, November 04, 2019
Someone Tells Me––poem by Dorothy
Someone Tells Me
Someone tells me
this image is not Shiva.
Not a god, does not
exist.
Does Michangelo's God
on the ceiling exist?
Did Buddha?
Bodidharma,
whose name I carry inside?
Do I exist? Do you?
Am I a phantasm wandering
through the grounds
of an imaginary world?
Am I a creature
invented by myself?
This is what enlightenment
insists upon.
Many are devastated
by this news, don't know
where to turn.
They wish to continue
as they think they are,
not be swallowed by nothingness.
The form does not matter.
We are each real
in an invisible world.
We are each connected
by an unseen thread
to that which endures
and holds us steady
on our way.
When Shiva comes
into your body
you will know
whether he is real.
When delight suffuses
your being,
you will not have questions.
Dorothy Walters
November 3, 2019
