Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Palette, Or: From Where Does It Come?

Love has
Befriended Hafiz so completely
It has turned to ash
And freed

The workings of "Self" are shrouded in mystery.  This can be blessing and curse, I suppose.  Often I look to nature, or my surroundings for comfort, for something to hold on to when the inner tickings get loud.  My house doesn't hold my interest for long, as I prefer to wander and contemplate outdoors.  My backyard holds plenty of mystery.

Over these past weeks I have been on a quest.  Today brought a question into focus:  WHO is the resident "critic?"  Holding forth with diatribe, cajole, rhyming nothings, edits, arrogance, idiom, bribe, threat; who is this who knows me too well?

More will be revealed:  One's palette is colorful, imaginative, resourceful, sacred.   There is no need, even, for patience.  All that is needed is right here, right now.

Something to consider, from Hafiz:

Looking for Good Fish

Why complain about life
If you are looking for good fish
And have followed some idiot
Into the middle of the copper market?

Why go crazy
If you are looking for fine silk
And you keep rubbing your hands against
Burlap and hemp sacks?

If your heart really needs to touch a face
That is filled with abundance
Then why didn't you come to this
Old Man sooner?

For my cheek is the universe's cloister
And if you can make your prayers sweet enough

Then Hafiz will lean over and offer you
All the warmth in my body
In case God is busy
Doing something else

Why complain if you are looking
To quench your spirit's longing
And have followed a rat into a desert.

If your soul really needs to touch a face
That is always filled with compassion 
And tenderness
Then why,

Why my dear
Did you not come to your friend Hafiz

Sometimes, it just takes me a while.


N2 said...

The soul is emerging in this stack of paintings! Love the texture and palette in the first painting close-up, and, of course, all the detail shots of the yard, fresh from yesterday's rain. Blowing kisses...N2

Anonymous said...

Ah, these beautiful new paintings...reveal the surface of unknown planets in as yet undiscovered galaxies under strange suns, light, the discovery of possible life, the artist's core energy, the beauty of s beloved garden reflected, the voice of Hafiz, loving, bare truth. Kudos.

Kim and Victoria said...

What a great poem.

I feel I am looking for the wrong thing in the wrong place. But I can't help myself. It's love.

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