Mathematics can easily prove that a continuous line segment cannot have all its points labeled by rational numbers. You can get as close as you like to one of these “extra,” or “irrational”, points by choosing a suitable such fraction, but you can never find a fraction that lands you precisely on an irrational point. Paul Davies & John Gribbon
And so it is the same with the human irrational… larger than life… it engulfs the rational…yet we esteem to call it rational…look closer…
Meet me at the horizon of sea in the sunset of dusk.
And I will tell you all that is seen and known is rational.
But below where the creatures swim above and beyond is the greatest of mysteries.
In this black void of space and time there is an odd mingling of shapes and sizes.
A poetic dance offering the potentia of life no less.
The whole of it under and over dark matter, the joys and sorrows, a spark of creation.
Dreams stand there in the night.
Burping bubbles into the sky, making poetry for the soul.
Tsk Tsk a scoff is heard at the junction of seen and unseen.
At the place where words swirl without language.
Where laughter erupts and a bit of the Charlie Chaplin you see
Lost in the obvious… tripping over tied shoes…
Mystery, fear, guttural longings.
Where is Love?
Weaving in and out
connecting loose threads
sewing on broken hems,
mending severed legs.
swirling, longing, calling
This alchemical enigma
churning above and below; returning spark to dead wires.
The greatest concoction worth dying for!
Where is rejoice when steam bursts enough to move mountains?
When creatures come out to play.
Run, hide, cower, rage you say
It’s hideous inside
Wailing like a baby on the boats shore
Woe is me
Quivering to move mole hills
Calling the sea ugly
Basking in comfort; afraid of living
Yet Einstein said, I didn’t discover light, it discovered me.
When will it be your time to tend the soup?
Peer into its steamy cacophony
Stir with its untimely rhythm; taste its sweet darkness
Let smiling rest on the shelf.
Circle next time from the core.
Turn with the earth
Embrace the horizon with open arms and eyes wide shut.
Feel your way into crimson, violet and indigo.
Squish mud between your toes
Laugh loudly and
Fill your own heaping bowl
overflowing enough to feed millions.
Listen from the Heart
Hear what cannot be heard.
The true essence of things is invisible to the eyes… We rely too heavily on them. We believe we see the world around us and yet it is only the surface we perceive. We must learn to divine the true nature of things, their sustenance, and the eyes are rather a hindrance than a help in this regard. They distract us. We love to be dazzled. Relying too heavily we neglect the hearing, the feeling the smell. I’m talking about the organ within us for which we have no name. Let us call it the compass of the heart.
Jan- Phillip Sendker The Art of Hearing Heart Beats