Hugh Cobb

Dancing With The Tao

A river
or mountain brook
murmurs over stones,
a mystery of tranquility
explained only in
its being, justified only
by its own existence.

The gestalt, the All-That-Is
lives present in all moments,
all time, standing still
yet eternally in motion,
experiencing each as each
& all as whole:
As each molecule of water
is part of the stream,
so each particle of All-That-Is
is separate yet indivisible
from that Whole
of which it is but a part.

We too dance
an endless dance
spiralling through lifetimes
adding to the One
by its living through us.
We are a tiny spark,
a unique expression of Being
here just once yet
we shall go on Forever,
delving deeper within
discovering more of our innate holiness
until, at last, we know ourselves Divine:
in It's image...

Meantime our place is here
in this world of Maya.
Our lives must be sufficient
through our connectedness to Source.
We are called to honor the One
who lives & expresses as each & all.
(For is not every expression of God
to be blessed, celebrated & praised?)

Until we can look at ourselves
in a reflecting pool or glass
& behold our own Divinity
we will continue to suffer
& dwell in illusion.
Until we can look at one another
& behold God looking back at us
through their eyes we will never
know the end of violence & war.

Know then, the key is not outside the self,
but hidden deep within the silence of the heart
where Soul sits patiently waiting for you
to ask that the door be opened.
You are only required
to simply be that particle you are,
to accept your existence as prima facie
evidence of your belonging & value.
For as surely as each molecule of water
knows its source & belongs to it,
so you belong to that same source
whose wellspring is your very Soul:
tapped always into an endless Fount
which is Living Water. Drink & be refreshed!

Selah!

(Copyright 11/21/2005)

Poem Submitted: Monday, November 21, 2005
Poem Edited: Monday, November 21, 2005

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Comments about Dancing With The Tao by Hugh Cobb

  • Ben Gieske (7/18/2007 8:08:00 AM)

    A nice meditation and beautiful relections on this existence of ours. I agree living begins with the ego (the birth of self consciousness) and until we can really say, 'Here I Am.'

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  • Gregory Gunn (2/23/2006 11:35:00 PM)

    Dear Hugh,

    You done it again sagacious one; you've managed to move my melon into loftier realms of thought and after midnight at that.

    'I suppose, accordingly, that everything that I see is false; I convince myself that nothing has ever existed at all that my deceitful memory recalls to me. I think that I have no senses; and I believe that body, shape, extension motion, and location are merely inventions of my mind. What then could still be thought true? Perhaps nothing else, unless it is that there is nothing certain in the world.'

    -René Descartes

    Melon needing 'shrooms now,

    Gregory

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  • Anna Russell (2/22/2006 5:09:00 AM)

    Well said. A heartwarming read for the cynic in all of us.
    Hugs
    Anna xxx
    (This is probably a really stupid question, but what does selah mean?)

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  • Joy Vanderhelm (1/26/2006 7:45:00 PM)

    All reality illusion and all illusion merely dreams. An amazing delve into the realms of all possibilities, bleeding through the walls connectiing all dimesions. Likewise, nothing holds true but truth itself yet truth is in the eye of all and none. Superb poetry, Mr. Cobb.

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  • ***** ********* (1/16/2006 8:14:00 AM)

    I agree Hugh! completely. 10 from still trying, Tai

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  • G. Murdock (11/29/2005 10:36:00 PM)

    This is a long drink but a refreshing one. I felt the contentions of U.G.Krishnamurti here, denying it its exposition the self which is an illusion and in it all the ideas which we insist be reality. Samsara holds us and its hands are our hands. Or like an old drunk philosopher said: 'We get in our own way of happiness. ' Good poetry Mr. Cobb

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