Today I'm flying low and I'm
not saying a word
I'm letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.
The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
But I'm taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I'm traveling
a terrific distance
Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple
Where and what is the temple? I suppose it could be the place where we plunge into the ocean, returning? Or where we run through the meadow and leap into gods' arms? Maybe the temple is where we shine the mirror only to have the temple burn down around us? It's probably all those things - we just keep trying doors to enter, and breathe deep when the forces of life slam the doors in our faces. But no matter, because I'm taking a wild guess here, the temple lies on both sides of the door.
Questions for Reflection:
1. What ambitions keep you from rest? Or keep you from your "temple."
2. What is your temple?
3. What do you do with the "must" that speaks of fish eating gnats, of the harm inherent in life?