The beloved moves through
the world.
Is the world.
Becomes the hundred things we love
Or the one and only thing or person
We love.
Shifting, restless,
Refusing to incarnate in a final form,
As if to teach us to keep our eyes
Moving if we want to see the bird
Flitting from bush to tree:
Is the world.
Becomes the hundred things we love
Or the one and only thing or person
We love.
Shifting, restless,
Refusing to incarnate in a final form,
As if to teach us to keep our eyes
Moving if we want to see the bird
Flitting from bush to tree:
There it is! No, there.
No,
It's hidden now, you can't see it,
But you can hear its song.
It's hidden now, you can't see it,
But you can hear its song.
~ Gregory Orr ~
(Concerning the Book that is the
Body of the Beloved)
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