I shared an egg sandwich yesterday with the strange creature who I live with. Nature has gone to great lengths to separate her from me, to clothe her with impenetrable mystery, to cultivate the allure of opposition, to dangle the fruit of possible redemption as a goal. Today, as we commodify the world toward satisfaction of every urge, and seek to purge alterity in pursuit of the fools gold of control, May time, preserve my wits, my ability to see that her decision to allow me to pursue hinges on the sanctity of her signature decree: I’ll be me, and You be you. May I ever frame her as the other that she is, and not attempt to change her, or process her through the lens of usefulness. Instead, may I chase her as a stranger who the stars have kissed, in this footrace with the question: Why do I exist?
Such a beautiful poem, Jed. I am a sucker for love poems and this is one of the most wonderful, love poems I have ever read. Reminds me of E. Em Cummings.
You flatter me Naz... and I will happily drink every word of it. There is a time to preserve identity and a time to give it away. Thoughts with you and with us all as we walk this balance.
What a great poem on existing with another. I have that exact tendency to want to try to get my wife to be more like me. Wonderful reminder to just let her be and love her for who she is.
Your words hold the ache and the wonder of devotion. The vow to keep mystery alive, to love without possession, to let strangeness be the sanctuary where love breathes. Really beautiful piece.
Enjoyed the sound of this just as much as I did the insight, Jed. It's an interesting thing, sharing space with another. It seems mammals, reptiles and insects are capable of doing the same. I just wish we could be more consistently peaceful about it.
It does indeed Mocra ... in this context, specifically the idea that we all exist only in relation to the other... and my current understanding of Sunyata is a description for this always present and ever evolving balance. Thank you kindly for reading.
"Sunyata" means emptiness - but emptiness, according to the great Buddhist teachers, is not nothing, only the absence of permanent form, and this makes it the perfect title for a poem in which love is always an "impenetrable mystery", and "the other" remains elusive and worth chasing after in the hope of finding the true meaning of existence. This is a fine love poem. Jed.
I love all of this, Jed. Especially the emptiness. Wonderfully put.
I love this Jed. So beautiful in the co-existence! Love and respect of the magical other!
Gracias my friend. I hope you are well. It's gonna be warm in our neighborhood the next few days.
Such a beautiful poem, Jed. I am a sucker for love poems and this is one of the most wonderful, love poems I have ever read. Reminds me of E. Em Cummings.
You flatter me Naz... and I will happily drink every word of it. There is a time to preserve identity and a time to give it away. Thoughts with you and with us all as we walk this balance.
Yes quite e.e. Cummings in style!
A love poem!
Always the best way to start the day. Ummm - accompanied by coffee.
Yep - to find another who is an other, and to love that otherness, is a delight.....
D :)
What a great poem on existing with another. I have that exact tendency to want to try to get my wife to be more like me. Wonderful reminder to just let her be and love her for who she is.
Lovely Jed
Your words hold the ache and the wonder of devotion. The vow to keep mystery alive, to love without possession, to let strangeness be the sanctuary where love breathes. Really beautiful piece.
What else are we for, but to love, to see the other of each thing, separate from us, but also one with us.
More and more, you are growing into your philosopher self.
From you, my friend, those are very warm words and welcome.
So very lovely!
"Today, as we commodify the world
toward satisfaction of every urge,
and seek to purge alterity
in pursuit of the fools gold of control,"
Enjoyed the sound of this just as much as I did the insight, Jed. It's an interesting thing, sharing space with another. It seems mammals, reptiles and insects are capable of doing the same. I just wish we could be more consistently peaceful about it.
Thank you, James, hearing the sound of the words. Truly appreciate the read.
Cute,i wish i had a magical other
I gather both in Japanese and Sanskrit sunyata means emptiness. Wonderful to see these terms finding it’s way in the English language :)
It does indeed Mocra ... in this context, specifically the idea that we all exist only in relation to the other... and my current understanding of Sunyata is a description for this always present and ever evolving balance. Thank you kindly for reading.
So well put, Jed
"Sunyata" means emptiness - but emptiness, according to the great Buddhist teachers, is not nothing, only the absence of permanent form, and this makes it the perfect title for a poem in which love is always an "impenetrable mystery", and "the other" remains elusive and worth chasing after in the hope of finding the true meaning of existence. This is a fine love poem. Jed.
A wonderful piece, Jed! To be me and for you to be you, and for us to coexist in relative harmony (or close to it)...
Nazish is right - wonderful writing
and seek to purge alterity
in pursuit of the fools gold of control,
Yeah, if I could do that, I would