One who sees variety & not Unity wanders on from death to death. Knowing this, let the lover of Brahman follow wisdom. Let him not ponder on many words, for words are weariness. Brihadaranyaka Upanishad
How does one see Unity & not touch instantly, its variety? Come to rest beneath its Tree & not know the communion within its leaves? Where is the high regard for all that is small & in concreto of God?
May this depth of darkness teach us that to learn is to honor. To understand our ignorance begins the eminent regard; it sanctifies the holding on, just as it profanes by letting go. Love we must, for in love, we come to gather & compel our habits to open their integuments & let turn the root so it may learn the ways of the water film radiant with bacteria; of the water film & naked amoeba; of fecal decay & the fertile castings that range in the wake of the great worms who plow the dark below. Like the tree, its people of cells, or the sea, its tree-like upwelling, those who make for molecular water, who make for the congress of thought, who make for the dust of stars, who make for the concupiscent dog, who people & thrive---gather in desire to grow wise.
Wise to every germ of the generous, every spore of the wandering, every growing-tip of the speculative, every annelid of the appetite, every cell's watery body a mind.
Wise in a love that makes us expansive, that makes us grow out into great dust storms or vast ocean floors or the vortices of air that shadow the beautiful animal.
Wise in a love that makes that expansiveness devolve into the last atom upon the tip of an eyelash that bares the entirety of Brahman.
Wise like those in exile, who learn to live with what is left after another is dead.
Wise like those who grow into old age to give what they have to those who have less.
Wise to the path that ambles & winds & not the crowded reality it leaves to the side.
Wise to death because what else could make us better understand this expansiveness, this desire to root & leaf & spill our seed?
Wise to a seed because we are wise to a desire as the sea is to a sun as the sun is to a dark as that is to a fire---but no more! No more. For though words can make many grow wise, we fear for the weary.
