--- In [EMAIL PROTECTED], "curtisdeltablues" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > I heard your great Blipity Blap sermon satire in an English > accent since it sounded so much like a Monty Python skit!
It was, from "The Meaning Of Life." All I did was replace the words "God" or "Lord" with "Blibity Blap." :-) > Excellent list of quotes. It amazes me that religions get > all the press for inspiring wonder and awe in the world when > it seems to do the exact opposite. Taking the actual wondrous > mystery and turn it into a cheesy explanation. Some search for "answers," and others are content with the wonder of the questions themselves. > When I dropped my conceptual system supporting my spiritual > beliefs, I felt a little weird at first. I missed the > expansive feeling I got when I thought those grand ideas. > The guy who turned me around was Carl Sagan in his series > Cosmos. Despite his immense value for satire (which he > appreciated) he reminded me that the language of wonder and > awe is perhaps better applied to the actual world in front > of us and all the amazing things that emerge through our > inquiry about our natural world. Or, at the very least, equally applied. > Poets Robert Bly and James Wright are other guys who handed > me some tools for describing our natural world and the > transcendent feelings that is can inspire. (when it isn't > infecting you with necrotizing fasciitis bacteria.) Here > is a little poem by James Wright that I have had rattling > around my brain for decades. It sums up what is serving me > well as spirituality in my life these days. > > A Blessing > > Just off the Highway to Rochester, Minnesota > Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass. > And the eyes of those two Indian ponies > Darken with kindness. > They have come gladly out of the willows > To welcome my friend and me. > We step over the barbed wire into the pasture > Where they have been grazing all day, alone. > They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness > That we have come. > They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other. > There is no loneliness like theirs. > At home once more, > They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness. > I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms, > For she has walked over to me > And nuzzled my left hand. > She is black and white, > Her mane falls wild on her forehead, > And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear > That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist. > Suddenly I realize > That if I stepped out of my body I would break > Into blossom. Very nice. Poems of Tsangyang Gyatso, the Sixth Dalai Lama: White teeth smiling, Brightness of skin, On my seat in the high lama's row At the quick edge of my glance I caught her looking at me. By drawing diagrams on the ground The stars of space can be measured. Though familiar with the soft flesh Of my lover's body I cannot measure her depths. Meditating, my lama's face Does not shine in mind. Unbidden my lover's face Again and again appears.
