Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Deeper than love
There is love, and it is a deep thing
but there are deeper things than love.
First and last, man is alone.
He is born alone, and alone he dies
and alone he is while he lives, in his deepest self.
Love, like the flowers, is life, growing.
But underneath are the deep rocks, the
living rock that lives alone.
Love is a thing of twoness.
But underneath any twoness, man is alone.
And underneath the great turbulent emotions
of love, the violent herbage,
lies the living rock of a single's creature pride,
the dark, naif pride.
And deeper even than the bedrock of pride
lies the ponderous fire of naked life
with its strange primordial consciousness of connection,
connection with still deep, still more terrible life-fire
and the old, old final life-truth.
Love is twoness, and is lovely
like the living life on earth
but below all roots of love lies the bedrock of naked pride,
and deeper than the bedrock of pride
is the primordial fire of the middle
which rests in connection with the
further forever unknowable
fire of all things
and which rocks with a sense of connection, religion
and trembles with a sense of truth,
and is silent with a sense of justice,
the fiery primordial imperative.
All this is deeper than love
deeper than love.