My very act of seeing, touching, smelling, hearing, penetrates the object of perception and permeates it with consciousness, until it is no longer an it, but a Thou. Even a mossy stone, a whisper of hummingbird wing, the musk of late September tomatoes, this fierce hibiscus blossom on my back porch. My senses awaken her Thou. Her beauty awakens my Thou.
To behold is an ancient art, beyond mere seeing. To behold is to be held. As we entangle our gazes, this scarlet blossom curves toward consciousness, and I bend closer to Me. Together we approach the asymptote of the Self. Together we melt the mind-made distances between seer and seen, humanity and sap. She is my soul, and I am her body. Our holy confusion makes everything clear. In one beholding, each be held.
Photo: hibiscus on my back porch.
No comments:
Post a Comment