not all spiritual beings fly. some are grounded, really rooted with their feet heavy like rocks and hands colored with earth, because they need to see the planet and its inhabitants from close-up, not from the sky. with open eyes, beaming like rays of sunlight through glass, coloring inner vision, lines, shades of red and yellow. the poetry of forms in matter, in the imperfections. with heart radiating the rhythm and pulsations of blood… they need to be so close that the exhalations of divine breath create fog on the window that looks out to the field where animals live according to their instincts, fog on the camera lens, on the contact lenses, on the skin in contact. bodhisattva, welcome to our world. the wind of your breath – slow as the ocean – brings messages, sighing together with the waves of human events, small and pretty like stones, rounded and carried by the river to the ocean with the water always in movement, nuances of eternal blue.
for Piovra Caffè, written in the Esalen Art Barn, September 2013
gli esseri spirituali non volano tutti. alcuni sono atterrati, ben fondati, con i piedi come rocce e le mani colorati di terra… Continue reading