They say the Tao is what cannot be seen
Or touched.
Or explained.
It is the ephemeral strands of existence, a vibrant tapestry whose threads -
Friendship and poverty, welsh rarebit and genocide;
Margaritas and sailboats and allotments, poetry and laughter;
tears of loss, of irritation, of awe;
sighs of understanding, comradeship and orgasm;
the cooking of excellent meals for fine friends;
the first suck at the nipple of your newborn baby, the one who has the sun shining out of her wee bum
ah, but we all do have that shine in us, on us and around us-
Though rain falls and extinction happens, the cellist of the Sarajevo marketplace, his music still reverberates down the ages
And unlikely relationships come to pass
As distance is surmounted and splother delights and tolerance blends into caring…
Yes, this magic carpet of the Tao is gorgeous beyond words.
Every tiny knot is crucial and every life is essential to the overall pattern.
A dunklegreen hopping grasshopper, a yobbo from the ‘hood, a fat and greedy CEO, a giant Sequoia tree, and a raggle-taggle collective of wordsmiths on line-
without each and every one,
The whole would be less.
Drab beige in the border, brilliant cerulean colouring the leaves on that Tree of Life
All the weaving, the knitting, embroidery singing baking painting and planting of any collective goes to complete the whole.
Ah, but the Tao is never ending.
All strands go into it, and it goes on and on.
Bit like the Caff, eh?
Or touched.
Or explained.
It is the ephemeral strands of existence, a vibrant tapestry whose threads -
Friendship and poverty, welsh rarebit and genocide;
Margaritas and sailboats and allotments, poetry and laughter;
tears of loss, of irritation, of awe;
sighs of understanding, comradeship and orgasm;
the cooking of excellent meals for fine friends;
the first suck at the nipple of your newborn baby, the one who has the sun shining out of her wee bum
ah, but we all do have that shine in us, on us and around us-
Though rain falls and extinction happens, the cellist of the Sarajevo marketplace, his music still reverberates down the ages
And unlikely relationships come to pass
As distance is surmounted and splother delights and tolerance blends into caring…
Yes, this magic carpet of the Tao is gorgeous beyond words.
Every tiny knot is crucial and every life is essential to the overall pattern.
A dunklegreen hopping grasshopper, a yobbo from the ‘hood, a fat and greedy CEO, a giant Sequoia tree, and a raggle-taggle collective of wordsmiths on line-
without each and every one,
The whole would be less.
Drab beige in the border, brilliant cerulean colouring the leaves on that Tree of Life
All the weaving, the knitting, embroidery singing baking painting and planting of any collective goes to complete the whole.
Ah, but the Tao is never ending.
All strands go into it, and it goes on and on.
Bit like the Caff, eh?