When we survey the art and literature of mankind's rise from blessedly ignorant earth, we find a treasure trove of truth and light. Riches beyond the imaginings of the merely acquisitive are scattered on the ground for the taking. Carl Jung (1875-1961) may have been the first western mind to fully appreciate this. I have found the more valuable gems to be those closest to the earth-source, and there are scholars that should be sainted for their insightful collections of this material.
Symbol does not reduce to icon: it is rather that icon is a pointing to symbol. Icon is a stick that would hope to strike the cymbal. Symbol is the voice of the facts of our existence in the nothingness of time.
Ten Thousand Previous Poets
the smell of your hair
is with me in the world
the thousand previous poets
have with honed pens torn their hearts
to tell of love
their words
are no mere dried butterflies
upon pins of heartless history
and I find
across the motionless centuries
we chant in unison
I find no thought . . . no yearning
unthought
un-yearned
unknown before
within our souls
are the living incarnations of primordial goddesses and gods
their life eternal is our rushing wave of mortal selfhood
and there forever
they find and they love one another
for our petty human lives
there are such riches as can assure a patient poverty
and for the restless gods within my soul
all that is found
in you
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