
even hard stone, cold marble, dull clay
can transform into gods
allowing itself to live in an artist’s imagination
purified by the spiritual energy of mantras
bathed in curds and herbs
adorned with brass and bronze
fragranced by incense
and only in its completeness,
empties itself
to be filled with the presence of the divine
once lifeless and unevolving
now humbled by worshippers
but!
mankind, what can be said about us?
such highly evolved beings
the creator’s finest trophy
consumed by ego
conditioned in herds
clouded within illusion
even though we have
the power of choice
the faculty of thought
how many of us will
walk the path of light
exude compassion
dwell in art, in poetry, in the music within
recognise ourselves in others
yet!
our essence is inherently
softer than stone
warmer than marble
brighter than clay
emptier than an unawakened shrine
when do we become the sacred?
***
Inspiration: a quote I came across
Sometimes a stone enters a temple
and is transformed into a god.
But people visit temples often,
yet fail to become human
Dear Sonya,
Thank you for this contemplative poem.
“when do we become the sacred?”
We sit upon a throne, even as we continue to search frantically out there for sacredness.
All good wishes,
robert
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