The Fourth Sign of The Zodiac (Part 3)

I know, you never intended to be in this world.
But you’re in it all the same.

So why not get started immediately.

I mean, belonging to it.
There is so much to admire, to weep over.

And to write music or poems about.

Bless the feet that take you to and fro.
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching.

You could live a hundred years, it’s happened.
Or not.
I am speaking from the fortunate platform
of many years,
none of which, I think, I ever wasted.
Do you need a prod?
Do you need a little darkness to get you going?
Let me be as urgent as a knife, then,
and remind you of Keats,
so single of purpose and thinking, for a while,
he had a lifetime.

Reading Lew Welch's injunction: "Step out onto the planet"
Remembering Basho's recommendation, more or less like this: "It is on our immediate reality the place where to find true poetry."
On the preface of some book about the life and poetry of Ikkyu that through his way of life and his way of acting that he transcended the duality of spiritual and ordinary life.
Even Michel de Montaigne would come back to the world after retiring from it to ponder.
One after another, the point that there is no alternative to this world, we are better off giving all of our attention, intention, energy to it. Regardless if it is an illusion or not.

Upon reading "Training in Compassion" by Norman Fischer

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