"Come to the edge", he said.
They said, "We are afraid".
"Come to the edge", he said.
They came.
He pushed them ...
and they flew.
-Guilluame Apollinaire
"Who we are from conception to death isn't the whole story, our life in the universe isn't the whole story, and the universe itself isn't the whole story...and a day will come when we all of us will have stars at elbow and foot."
-John Moriarty, in an interview with RTE
Archive for the ‘Burnt Thumbs and Other Songs’ Category
of burnt thumbs and other songs
The second he put his thumb in his mouth, he knew it. The instant he put his thumb, burnt from the salmon of wisdom, in his mouth, he was in trouble. It wasn’t so much that Finnegas would be angry. Finnegas was too wise to be angry. No, Fionn was in trouble because Fionn was now Fionn. Fionn was now Fionn with all the wisdom of the world, with all the wisdom of Fionn. Nothing would be the same ever again. He could not stay at the river with Finnegas any longer. He could not stay with Fionn any longer. He knew too much. He was in too much trouble.
Cormac mac Airt was in trouble.
The moment Cormac mac Airt saw that mysterious youth on the green, was the precise moment when Cormac mac Airt was in trouble. The glittering branch could have been named “Troubles Herald”. Ahh, the sweet red of trouble in those the nine apples. Cormac was in trouble. He was prepared to pay any price for that trouble, the price of trouble.
Posted in Burnt Thumbs and Other Songs | 
Tags: apple, bran, cerridwen, christ, cormac, doorways, finnegas, fionn, gwion, identity, life, music, nothingness, siddartha, silver branch, taliesin, trouble, unknowing | 
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it does happen, doesn’t it?
It happens, doesn’t it?
The day comes when the world pushes open the door we have closed against the world.
-John Moriarty, What the Curlew Said
It does happen, doesn’t it?
That fateful day of the door crashing in on us, pushed open by the world, different levels of the world, that in one way or the other, we have been avoiding.
The fateful splintering of the door of denial, escapism and addiction. The door shattered by a reality that is larger than we imagined, larger even than we can imagine.
Thus shattered, the floodwaters of Reality come rushing in. A Reality made not of reality that we might know something of, but a Reality that is far beyond anything that even reality knows anything of. A Reality that includes, transcends and integrates. A Reality that has suffered long enough in its exclusion, an impatient Reality, a Reality needing to be on with its work of transformation, its task of becoming, its labor of emerging through us, into us. A Reality that, in actuality, amounts to little more than boundless Potentiality.
A Reality brimming with Potentiality already crashing over the edges of our perception, already straining the hinges of the soul.
Posted in Burnt Thumbs and Other Songs |
Tags: becoming, depths, doorways, experience, heights, island, journey, life, music, potentiality, reality, sea, silver branch, transformation, truth, wild |
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