Poem – Misty Magic
In this week’s Spot, Sadhguru sends us an outpouring of poetry and prose. “Misty Magic” speaks of both the beauty and traps of Creation, and the compassion of the Guru in taking one to inner freedom. “Veils of misty myopia/ Cocoon one with the warmth/ of blindness beautiful”. In the end, Sadhguru offers the ultimate promise, “Hold my hand in love/ Become an ecstatic drip/ That will let you flow unto the Beyond.”
Misty magic of the mountain dew
Drops so fragile and resilient
Drops hanging from the tips of leaves,
drops rolling down the blades of grass
Drops that linger upon the spider’s web
like a jewel of many splendored diamonds
Indestructible in its fragility
Beautiful as only a Trap can be.
Trap for the poor insect but palace
for the majestic spider crafting a
Cosmos of dexterity that decides
the fates of many lowly creatures
that are food and play for the
majestic spider with his many legs
and his spindle craft. The disdain
that he spills for the two legged
cripples as he dances upon his
agile ten legs casting inviting
nets of Hope and Death.
Death of the living who pity the Dead
Not knowing the bondage of life and freedom of Death.
The Only striving worth its name is to strive for death from which there is no resurrection. A Death so complete that it frees you of the need to exist. When you are free from the need to spin webs that are cast to trap. One who traps cannot leave the web either, trapped into his own trap.
Without setting a trap there is neither work, food nor play. So the trap has to be crafted with one’s heart strings of love, pain and ecstasy.
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Décor not of diamonds but drops of ecstasy that only those steeped in love can smell. A trap that drips with juices of life that flood away the fears of death. Such an overflow of life that defies death and touches the Beyond Here and Now. Such a honey trap when you shake, drops of life will fall not unto Death but into the Beyond.
Veils of misty myopia
Cocoon one with the warmth
of blindness beautiful
The beauty of a leaf, flower,
light, shadow, breast, hair
The myopic mist makes it all fair
You may burn your way
through these veils of mist
O’Beloved trust me
Behold my spirit in your Heart
Hold my hand in love
Become an ecstatic drip
That will let you flow unto the Beyond.