and they behave like children –
always themselves, and always natural,
all they do is natural;
they seem to be as expert untaught children;
and yet, they are not childish,
nor like novices;
appear to be accomplished; yet
not weighty; wisdom
not a burden or a badge to them;
nor the severity of teachers;
but question them, they answer, sweetly;
loving them, we love ourselves the more;
they are bright, in every way;
light – like dancers on the stage,
their simplicity
lovely to the sight; they live simply,
as if things they need
just come to them;
living without anything attached to life
because they love to live in freedom,
love to live as limitless;
like swans, like lotus flowers,
they float on the lake
of their own stillness;
no single thing
attracts them, yet
every thing around them shines;
shines of itself, as if it shines for them;
and when they speak, you hear -
the sound that shining makes.
the last line is rocking and actuaaly the WHOLE poem ROCKZZZZz
How I love that last line - the sound that shining makes. What a description!
Light and bright and true and tear-jerking, M. And that is even with the Stephen King get-outta-my-head battle going on. I find this very moving. Wonderfully written. t x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Shining phrasing, Michael. Sweet music - yet I think you should cut the last 3 lines, though well said, well intentioned, - not as light footed as the rest, gets 'weighty' and brings closure to what you know tp be an open mystery.