Thomas Lowe Taylor -- HEALING

***************


In the warzone’s special mimicry, where appearances within reality become the commonplace, some discrimination becomes necessary, at the slower reach resumed folly no longer possible, then, when it is no longer a rehearsal for what one might do, the truth becomes known with its own attributes intact, how then can love blossom or find renewal?

The long way around that is the waking up of sensation at its own boundary & song. For what comes up from the heart’s own lines is rather something without permission, and at love’s grace, something unrestricted from its due, made certain in a line without posturing taking its place.

I saw your season in regard from where it was drawn without seeming to be what was taken from me without such permission ever having been given. Without deeds, then, love enters the scene quietly, when something has already been prepared, the mats having been just laid down, and within scrutiny, no detail left unattended--that is the state of readiness upon which one attends the event. Attends. That is, pays attention without noticing that one has let go, momentarily, from the imprisonment of fantasy & awaitment, one has left seclusion and re-entered, entered even, the realm of the attached.

Jun 12.95