When I was down I saw my shadow all the time.
The sun was everywhere except inside of me.
Now every day the sun is drowned in grayest sea,
But my horizon's drawn with silver lines.
The germ inside the seed, it grows -- it does not know.
And why when one and one are one it equals three,
Makes sense to me, I cannot tell. Its mystery
Is safe inside her womb with hopes full-sown.
There, when I mixed memory and desire,
There, when I was preaching icy fire,
There, when I fixed up within the hours,
There, when I was speeching from the towers,
There, when I believed in Judas' blues,
There, when I walked in Bob Dylan's shoes,
There, when I relieved myself of strife,
There, when I balked at renewing life,
There, when I objected to your joy,
There, when I was scheming to destroy,
There, when I, dejected, dropped the load,
There, when I was teeming to explode,
There, when I was waiting not expecting,
There, when I insisted on rejecting,
There, when I was hating every tale,
There, when I persisted but would fail,
There, when I begrudged the couple's kiss,
There, when I uncovered animus,
There, when I had judged the multitudes,
There, when I had smothered beatitudes,
There, when I refused to welcome you,
There, when I confused both What and Who,
There, when I excused myself and cried,
There, when I would save myself and lied,
There, when I divorced the soul and heart,
There, when I re-ran from end to start,
There, when I forced friends to part from me,
There, when I began to end to be,
There appeared an image,
Smiling brightly flying,
Human almost holy,
To dispel the dying
Moaning echoes welling
Where the chorus should be swelling.
This is what will happen
When the Lover bids you love.
The rest is badinage.
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11 comments:
And when you are up you will never see your shadow.
Well, I didn't say that. It is difficult to say precisely what happens to the shadow when a person feels good, feels healthy, feels whole. It's still with you, but now it has been integrated into your Self. You're not blind to the shadow and its being there, but you're also not obsessing about its presence.
These words about shadows, dark thoughts, and bright images -- they can describe any person who for a period lives from the shadow and then moves slowly back toward the true Self.
Then is the Lover the Self?
The Lover is God. The Lover is not the Self -- I am not a pantheist. But God the Lover is in the Self.
Have you read anything by Herman Hesse?
Yes: Siddhartha, but that was a dozen years ago. I do not think it had a deep effect on me. What here reminds you of Hesse?
We all cross the river at some point in our lives.
In the book Demian, Hesse gives a description about living in the light and in the shadow. Like in all of his books, he talked about the duality of life.
In a sense, self and shadow are dual natures of the same being.
Yes, it would seem so.
Anticipating the next poem coming...
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