another poem by Naomi

[Guest guest]

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,

feel the future dissolve in a moment

like salt in a weakened broth

What you held in your hand,

what you counted and carefully saved,

all this must go so you know

how desolate the landscape can be

between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride

thinking the bus will never stop,

the passengers eating maize and chicken

will stare out the window forever.

 

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,

you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho

lies dead by the side of the road.

You must see how this could be you,

how he too was someone

who journeyed through the night with plans

and the simple breath that kept him alive.

 

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,

you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.

You must wake up with sorrow.

You must speak to it till your voice

catches the thread of all sorrows

and you see the size of the cloth.

 

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,

only kindness that ties your shoes

and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,

only kindness that raises its head

from the crowd of the world to say

It is I you have been looking for,

and then goes with you everywhere

like a shadow or a friend.

 

 

Naomi Shihab Nye, Words Under the Words, Eighth Mountain Press,

1995

[Guest guest]

ah, truth and beauty....sweet wisdom....mira say to mark....we must

carve our hearts out of suffering.....awesome poem.....thank you for

sharing it.....^^~~~~

further up and further in,

white wolfe

-

Mark Otter <mark.otter (AT) sunysb (DOT) edu>

harsha <>

Wednesday, May 16, 2001 8:28 AM

another poem by Naomi

> > Before you know what kindness really is> you must lose

things,> feel the future dissolve in a moment> like salt in

a weakened broth> What you held in your hand,> what you

counted and carefully saved,> all this must go so you know>

how desolate the landscape can be> between the regions of

kindness.> How you ride and ride> thinking the bus will

never stop,> the passengers eating maize and chicken> will

stare out the window forever.> > Before you learn the tender

gravity of kindness,> you must travel where the Indian in a

white poncho> lies dead by the side of the road.> You must

see how this could be you,> how he too was someone> who

journeyed through the night with plans> and the simple breath

that kept him alive.> > Before you know kindness as the deepest

thing inside,> you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.>

You must wake up with sorrow.> You must speak to it till

your voice> catches the thread of all sorrows> and you see

the size of the cloth.> > Then it is only kindness that makes

sense anymore,> only kindness that ties your shoes> and

sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,>

only kindness that raises its head> from the crowd of the world

to say> It is I you have been looking for,> and then goes

with you everywhere> like a shadow or a friend.> > > Naomi

Shihab Nye, Words Under the Words, Eighth Mountain Press,> 1995> > >

> > > /join> >

> >

> > All paths go somewhere. No path goes

nowhere. Paths, places, sights, perceptions, and indeed all

experiences arise from and exist in and subside back into the Space

of Awareness. Like waves rising are not different than the ocean, all

things arising from Awareness are of the nature of Awareness.

Awareness does not come and go but is always Present. It is Home.

Home is where the Heart Is. Jnanis know the Heart to be the Finality

of Eternal Being. A true devotee relishes in the Truth of

Self-Knowledge, spontaneously arising from within into It Self.

Welcome all to a.> > > > Your use of is

subject to > >