Eye of the Hurricane

THE EYE OF THE HURRICANE riding-out-a-hurricaneMallorca, facing the sea.

A fierce wind whistles
through the crevices of windows and doors.
Outside, fishing boats rise and tilt and dip again
beneath sinuous blue-grey swells.
The wind sweeps everything in its way
swerving, lifting, brushing over invisible streams.
There is a violent restraint to the power I witness.
Quiescence and also longing arise
as a search for wordless answers to impossible questions.
Undecipherable whisperings surface
as sighs in the silence in between.
The sounds, smells, sights, sensations and feelings
remind me of childhood and Caribbean summer cyclones.
Strange how time stands still in the eye of the hurricane.

I know without knowing,
all is the same.
Impermanent and permanent.
Everything coincides:
inner-outer, summer-winter, past present, East-West.
Memories and possibilities loom before the mind’s eye.
to remember vows taken and promises broken,
yearnings in youth and acknowledgments in maturity,
the irrelevance of desire,
and the voracity of the soul yearning for itself.
It is not the faces of people or the shadow of events
but rather the feelings that produced them that remain,
like the foamy crests of waves before me, always the same
and changing.

A vow suggests hope and continuity, aspiration and ideals.
Embroidered with words, at the core, it’s all about us.
We only think it is about people and situations;
marriage, friendship, loyalties that pave a way of life
bent on defying circumstance.
In an age of divorce and simulation,
how binding are the promises we make?
Can oaths be blown away by wind and swept by tides?
Can we break what was never bound?
Do we swear fealty out of convenience,
lust, social standing, approval, loneliness, curiosity,
or the stirrings of something we call “love”
but do not fully comprehend?
Do we promise service and loyalty to an Ideal,
or do we yield instead to pressures in order to belong?

The intuition of perfection makes the heart stir and dreams surface,
but reality builds edifices bound to crumble.
The commitment that underlies a vow doesn’t have to do with time
but with transcendence and eternity.
It requires faith,
and faith is of the heart, non-rational and eternal,
like the essence of the waves that ride the inner world.
Truth resides in living feelings that arise and fall to rise again
without object or condition.
Love lives deep within and navigates in spirals;
infinite ripples echoing in time as if by accident.
Its inner abyss remains unruffled
as does the heart of oceans from the wrath of winds.



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