Many songs of spring bring hope. And many of these songs are singing Ekonkar, the oneness of all. Oneness appears fantastic in the color of hope. This is true whether Kabir sings in hope in the 12th century, my dear Guru Nanak sings in the 15th century, or Amy Gerstler sings in the current century.
Just having reading a few of her poems from Amy Gerstler, I am becoming a big fan of her style: Simple words. Deep thought. Reaching impact. Delectable taste. Fantastical approach. Sometimes comical. Always beautiful. Because, she is singing in the love of poetry (this will become clear to you if you read her intro to"The Best American Poetry 2010"). Yes ... Love is indeed all you need. Imagine ... lions hugging lambs, snakes kissing snails, in the garden of oneness. This Saturday, take a walk in this garden of love ... and your soul will get the medicine of peace it dearly needs.
In Perpetual Spring by Amy Gerstler
Gardens are also good places
to sulk. You pass beds of
spiky voodoo lilies
and trip over the roots
of a sweet gum tree,
in search of medieval
plants whose leaves,
when they drop off
turn into birds
if they fall on land,
and colored carp if they
plop into water.
Suddenly the archetypal
human desire for peace
with every other species
wells up in you. The lion
and the lamb cuddling up.
The snake and the snail, kissing.
Even the prick of the thistle,
queen of the weeds, revives
your secret belief
in perpetual spring,
your faith that for every hurt
there is a leaf to cure it.
(Copyright Amy Gerstler, printed without her permission, but in hope of eternal spring)
Just having reading a few of her poems from Amy Gerstler, I am becoming a big fan of her style: Simple words. Deep thought. Reaching impact. Delectable taste. Fantastical approach. Sometimes comical. Always beautiful. Because, she is singing in the love of poetry (this will become clear to you if you read her intro to"The Best American Poetry 2010"). Yes ... Love is indeed all you need. Imagine ... lions hugging lambs, snakes kissing snails, in the garden of oneness. This Saturday, take a walk in this garden of love ... and your soul will get the medicine of peace it dearly needs.
In Perpetual Spring by Amy Gerstler
Gardens are also good places
to sulk. You pass beds of
spiky voodoo lilies
and trip over the roots
of a sweet gum tree,
in search of medieval
plants whose leaves,
when they drop off
turn into birds
if they fall on land,
and colored carp if they
plop into water.
Suddenly the archetypal
human desire for peace
with every other species
wells up in you. The lion
and the lamb cuddling up.
The snake and the snail, kissing.
Even the prick of the thistle,
queen of the weeds, revives
your secret belief
in perpetual spring,
your faith that for every hurt
there is a leaf to cure it.
(Copyright Amy Gerstler, printed without her permission, but in hope of eternal spring)
Singing oneness!
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