You made me feel a little called out here. I’ve blamed people for leaving before without asking whether they were also trying to find their way back...
Mark, I smiled at the mountain being so sure the sun was the impatient one while it had never moved an inch itself. And then that last thought… returning was never the opposite of leaving. Yeah. I felt that one. 🫶
I enjoyed your poem, and I’m going to ask you a question not a legitimate interest. I actually asked the same question. I don’t care who publishes very frequently here, almost daily. Do you actually try to write a poem every day? Or do you have a bunch of poems written and put one out every day?
I enjoy writing and usually spend almost all evenings writing and a bit more time at the weekends, but I don’t really try to keep a certain amount written each day. I spend most of my time between writing the notes you may see and turning some notes into longer poems. The notes are fragments of ideas and are fun experiments, and if they start to grow arms and legs, then I let them become poems over time. I do have collections of poems already written so could post most days but try to avoid evey day.
I learned it in some different spiritual communities including Sufi and Dances of Universal Peace. I read it’s also is used in the work of Joanna Macy. In just looking it up, I found it was originally written by Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach who was known as “the singing rabbi”.
The mountain watching the sun cross the sky slowly every day, and calling it impatient. Forgetting it had never moved. The mountain spent centuries criticising the sun for leaving each evening, unaware that dawn had always returned. Never realising that returning was never the opposite of leaving.
That is the line that stays. Returning was never the opposite of leaving. The sun does not leave. It completes. The mountain does not stay. It waits. The impatience is the mountain's. The sun is just doing what it does.
Remembering we were never meant to do anything other than stand in our own nature and receive. 🧡
Such a beautiful thought, Leisa!
Truly ❤️
So so good!!
Thanks, wildflower 🤍
Such a good lesson in here! Really well done!
Thank you, Laura!
You’re welcome!
You made me feel a little called out here. I’ve blamed people for leaving before without asking whether they were also trying to find their way back...
Sometimes returning comes before the leaving Asuka, and we just don’t realise it at the time….
I love the mountain’s certainty, and its blindness. <3
Maybe it can to even the oldest and wisest of us sometimes…
Thank you, Petra <3
Absolutely
Always beautiful Mark ✨
Thank you, Brandi ❤️
So much peace and beauty. Thank you 🤍✨🙏
Thank you 🫶
Mark, I smiled at the mountain being so sure the sun was the impatient one while it had never moved an inch itself. And then that last thought… returning was never the opposite of leaving. Yeah. I felt that one. 🫶
Thank you, Ruta. Perspective is a wonderful thing. Especially when it comes to leaving 🫶
I enjoyed your poem, and I’m going to ask you a question not a legitimate interest. I actually asked the same question. I don’t care who publishes very frequently here, almost daily. Do you actually try to write a poem every day? Or do you have a bunch of poems written and put one out every day?
Thanks, Stephen.
I enjoy writing and usually spend almost all evenings writing and a bit more time at the weekends, but I don’t really try to keep a certain amount written each day. I spend most of my time between writing the notes you may see and turning some notes into longer poems. The notes are fragments of ideas and are fun experiments, and if they start to grow arms and legs, then I let them become poems over time. I do have collections of poems already written so could post most days but try to avoid evey day.
Thank you for taking the time to reply, I really do appreciate it.
Thank you Stephen.
Gteat question, and one I'll come back to this a little today
Interesting, why was the mountain unaware that dawn was the same as the setting sun?
Maybe it was spending so long watching it leave, it never learned to recognise when it returned…
Seems like it! Maybe nobody tried to fill him in on it and he had no other source to ask or ponder with. Sounds like a lonely existence!
must be very lonely at the top!
Beautiful! Reminds of the song, “Return and return again.”
Thank you Beth! I don't know that song but will look it up!
Here’s a popular version.
I learned it in some different spiritual communities including Sufi and Dances of Universal Peace. I read it’s also is used in the work of Joanna Macy. In just looking it up, I found it was originally written by Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach who was known as “the singing rabbi”.
https://open.spotify.com/track/5ueS3OVbzidr0WuINhxzgS?
THank you!
Such a beautiful metaphor for perspective and change
Thank you, Aailya <3
The mountain watching the sun cross the sky slowly every day, and calling it impatient. Forgetting it had never moved. The mountain spent centuries criticising the sun for leaving each evening, unaware that dawn had always returned. Never realising that returning was never the opposite of leaving.
That is the line that stays. Returning was never the opposite of leaving. The sun does not leave. It completes. The mountain does not stay. It waits. The impatience is the mountain's. The sun is just doing what it does.
You’ve caught is perfectly, Vlad, Thank you.
Thank you, Mark. 🙏