One Light in Many Bodies
How can one consciousness be a god, a person, an animal and a plant without becoming any less itself? The poem answers almost entirely in images.
A clear crystal takes the colour of whatever is set beside it and stays clear. The moon's reflection seems to travel when the water moves. A mirror holds a whole town without being cut into streets. Shiva becomes every embodied being the same way, wrapped in layers of limitation like a rice grain in its husk, and the error that follows is a rope taken for a snake, frightening enough to kill. Consciousness winds itself in its own net, and by its own knowledge it unwinds.
- consciousness
- self
- nonduality
- manifestation
- embodiment
- ignorance
- maya
- individuality
- cosmology
- elements
- senses
- mind
- shiva
- emotions
Enter a dialogue
- A clear crystal takes on the colour of whatever lies beside it and stays clear. What in a person, on your account, is the crystal?
- A rope taken for a snake can frighten someone to death, though no snake was ever there. Why should an unreal bondage hurt so much?
- Consciousness, the poem says, winds itself in a net of body, breath and thought, like a net-maker caught in his own net. Who can cut it?
- Someone is cheerful one day and crushed the next. If the one consciousness only seems to share these moods, who is actually suffering?
- A mirror holds a whole town and its villages without being divided into them. How can one awareness hold a world of separate things and stay whole?