The forest of great trees

When memories of what went wrong press
mercilessly upon my thoughts at night
or when memory suggests disasters yet to come
and I lie sleepless and tormented;
I go to the forest where the great trees grow
and feel again their bark
and smell again layers of forest scents;
I listen again to the murmuring canopy
and the gentle sounds of creatures in the bush;
again I wrap my arms around those great trunks
and listen to their long memory,
feeling how they do not fret but just be
then and now and in all tomorrows;
again I enter into their infinite calm
and all is well, again.

 

13 May 2022

Thank you to inspiring poet Wendell Berry, whose poem Wild Things has clearly been an inspiration for this outpouring.

Prayer

Deepest reverence to the One
Ardhanariśvara, who is everything.
Deepest reverence to the One
Ardhanariśvarī, who is everything.
The nameless who is named.
Nourish all beings with your stillness,
Knowing the no-word-knowing.
Nourish all beings with the great vibration
Stillness spiralling to sensuality and form.
Show to all beings their Sacred Truth.
For you are the One, who is everything.
May all beings gaze knowingly through
Your eyes, in the glory of no-separation.
May there be peace, peace, peace.

This poem arose during an event during WOMADelaide 2022, with the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra layering music and silence. It tool the Lord's Prayer structure but gave it, to me, a deeper truth. Ardhanariśvara is Śiva and Ardhanariśvarī is Śakti in this imaging of the half male and half female deity. It is an expression of the One Consciousness out of which everything emerges.

Surrender into the Belovéd

The invitation comes: lean into the Belovéd. 

Trust, surrender to the embrace of none other
than God. You must let yourself dissolve,

so risk it; just lean into the Belovéd.
Easy said. I resist. Don’t smother
me, I cannot give in, however much I crave 

release. How long before my fear dissolves? 
Leaning instead into the scent of mother
as she passes. She disappears, elusive.

Risk it. Just lean into the Belovéd.
Then, when the soft wings of Infinity covered
my naked vulnerability with love,

surrender undid me and I dissolved.                
A bird sang; it’s me singing. There’s no “other”;
the Belovéd resolves into the loved,

moment to moment, there is none other,
no sister, wife, daughter, mother.
Guard dropped, leaning into the Belovéd, 
surrender undid me and I dissolved.

© Tina Shettigara 2022