The Dark Unlearning
This torn rice paper mind, its rips and tears allow for a vision
of stars in the windy night sky. Once I knew so much. Now I
do not know much of anything.
Between then and now,
the advent of love.
Between words and their meanings there is a pregnancy of silence,
a luminous quiet, where a knowing before things, gives birth to the
languaging of poetry. There
silence is in love with language and verse is born from that union.
Appearing’s appearance emerges from poetry’s word craft not the
other way round. It appears and swims in an ocean of meanings;
ordinariness becomes sublime.
hand moves to tree branch, (There is an
to grandson’s cheek, internet of things
to tractor gear shift, but a poetry of
to keyboard …………… a quatrain meanings.)
If you looked inside poetry’s mouth you would find words floating
in brightness; a brightness whose splendor outshines. This world,
with its mytho-poetics of mountains, flood plains, tidal pools, dry deserts,
deep jungles, oceans and stars, abides within the mysterious imaginings of
poetry’s dark unlearning, undoing,
unknowing of thingness.
We are the imaginings of luminous ignorance … We are the myth of
appearing, the poetry of circumstance, the syntax, verb, subject, preposition
of Being – that great communication without implication.
All this, and the moonlight, I see through this torn rice paper mind. - t.k.
t.k., tsogyelgar, traktung khepa