Merton’s words and the echoing words quoted from Colossians seem to leave little room for anything but imagining. This week, these readings, all push us beyond the ability of rational thought, beyond the mundane affairs of living and yet most especially push us into that realm. Mathematicians would say the two planes intersect this week; three realms meet in a point. And all is changed forever. And it lasts but a moment. And the now is eternal.
Merton first, Colossians second, me third. Hopefully you too will enter—
from Conjectures of A Guility Bystander
“There is nothing further to look for except to turn to Him completely, where he is already present. Be quiet and see that he is God.” (p. 23)
“That we might pass clean out of all that is transitory and inconclusive, return to the Immense, the Primordial, the Source, the Unknown, to Him who loves and knows, to the Silent, to the Merciful, to the Holy, to Him Who is All… this is the whole meaning and heart of all existence,…The ‘return’ is the end beyond all ends and the beginning of beginnings…Our destiny is to go beyond everything, to leave everything, to press forward to the End and find in the End our beginning.” (p. 171-172)
from Colossians
“And you who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he [Christ] has now reconciled—…He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible…” (1 : 15 – 23)
my imagining—
The image comes: a point; a growing; a turning outward and inward; exploding, spiraling into fancy, fancy ruffling; as the fractal evolves, a pattern, complex and beautiful, emerges, but it is a pattern that is free and delicate; a slight touch and it reverses directions curling around, tumbling and looping; another breath and off it goes stretching and longing.
But it can be broken, blotched, become a blob. It happens—the beauty is torn, the lace fragmented, the ice broken. Now the crystals are ugly; the pattern ruined.
Merton first, Colossians second, me third. Hopefully you too will enter—
from Conjectures of A Guility Bystander
“There is nothing further to look for except to turn to Him completely, where he is already present. Be quiet and see that he is God.” (p. 23)
“That we might pass clean out of all that is transitory and inconclusive, return to the Immense, the Primordial, the Source, the Unknown, to Him who loves and knows, to the Silent, to the Merciful, to the Holy, to Him Who is All… this is the whole meaning and heart of all existence,…The ‘return’ is the end beyond all ends and the beginning of beginnings…Our destiny is to go beyond everything, to leave everything, to press forward to the End and find in the End our beginning.” (p. 171-172)
from Colossians
“And you who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he [Christ] has now reconciled—…He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible…” (1 : 15 – 23)
my imagining—
The image comes: a point; a growing; a turning outward and inward; exploding, spiraling into fancy, fancy ruffling; as the fractal evolves, a pattern, complex and beautiful, emerges, but it is a pattern that is free and delicate; a slight touch and it reverses directions curling around, tumbling and looping; another breath and off it goes stretching and longing.
But it can be broken, blotched, become a blob. It happens—the beauty is torn, the lace fragmented, the ice broken. Now the crystals are ugly; the pattern ruined.
Can it ever return? Can it be restored?
No! It is gone forever!
Oh, the pain, the grotesqueness of lost form, the imbalance of upset vases, the shattered glass, the murky shore. One cannot return; one cannot go back—but all is not lost. The break can be woven in, the irregularity can become the basis for a more glorious design. The new contains the old wrapped wholly, sparklingly transformed.
Look—
No! It is gone forever!
Oh, the pain, the grotesqueness of lost form, the imbalance of upset vases, the shattered glass, the murky shore. One cannot return; one cannot go back—but all is not lost. The break can be woven in, the irregularity can become the basis for a more glorious design. The new contains the old wrapped wholly, sparklingly transformed.
Look—
What do you see?
What do you imagine?
Blessings, Caroline
Hi Carolyn,
ReplyDeleteYou have a nice blog. I just visited it, because I noticed you stopped by my blog. Great Post
http://mark24609.blogspot.com/2009/04/power-over-death.html
Mark
THX CAROLINE
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