Carelessly written into flowing water

[Jean Fournell]

A villanelle

— Void is form, and form is void.
So say the teachers who inform
with all benevolence deployed.

My bubble's bloating, being buoyed,
my troops ever attack and storm.
— Void is form, and form is void.

Though long with good and bad I've toyed,
I cannot limitless perform —
with all benevolence deployed.

Yet deeper still am I annoyed:
should deadly cold replace the swarm?
— Void is form, and form is void.

Whilst suddenly, through time convoyed,
the icy light shines whole and warm
with all benevolence deployed.

And is my here and now adroit?
Or is the world merely a dorm?
— Void is form, and form is void
with all benevolence deployed.

[mat james]

"...I wouldn't know, (Jean)
I'm just holding the fort..."
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.MatbbgJ
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By the way,
That is a "cool" poem Jean;
I love the title, the villanelle form and the topic.
Your poem's title, "Carelessly written into flowing water" sweeps me into those eastern perspectives, effortlessly; beautifully.
I love that space, twixt void and form, twixt East and West, twixt material and mystic...

I better refresh myself and my contemplations, again, in Leonard and his Dear Heather

A thought, Jean?
Do you think the title of that album, "Dear Heather" is a reflection on the "pastoral" aspects of the 'villanelle" form?
I have wondered, in the past, who "Heather" was.
But after reading your poem and looking into that poetic form (villanelle) and its pastoral references...perhaps Heather was the pasture/pastoral "heath", the grazing lands where the sheep fed?
...perhaps we graze between "void and form", as you say,
...maybe the Nazarene was right; we are a bunch of sheep in need of a "good shepherd" who can herd us through void and form to "omni-presence".?

Thanks for the thought-provoking journey.

Mat.

[Cate]

Carelessly written into flowing water

I could say that a thousand times and never get tired of it. I love the sound of it and and the image it provokes.

[Jean Fournell]

[Jean Fournell]

A sonnet

The form not being different from the void,
the void not being different from the form:
if nought beats one, then what can be its norm;
if one beats nought, then how was nought employed?

When one returns to nought, how's it destroyed;
when nought returns to one, is it some gorm?
The chanting of the Heart-song will perform
no deed nor word, and should it be enjoyed?

First we might tear asunder yang and yin
("things bad begun" by ill themselves make strong)
and call this poor mess names like state-of-sin,

then argue it's for wholeness humans long —
or else act inside what we're living in.
We're taught that "one of us cannot be wrong".

[Jean Fournell]

A haiku

Breeze, water, flower
turned between someone's fingers,
lives within Life... — gone.

[Jean Fournell]

A tale

In a temple, quite a number of monks had secretly fallen in love for a beautiful nun. Moved by compassion, one day, right in the middle of a meditation session, she rose to her feet, naked, and her voice was strong and clear: "Whoever loves me shall come to me, here and now, and do it."

This is the story, the way it must needs be told; and the monks, following their habit, let the memory of her word fade into the innermost void.

But in our case, there was one monk who actually did get up, and who did join her.

The entire temple vibrated from the top of the roof to the depths of its foundations like a giant singing bowl, and when the two of them were gone, all that remained was an ashen grey shell.

Soon rats and termites came and ate whatever debris were not made of metal or stone.

It is very rare, in our day, for a pilgrim to be drawn to the Barren Temple, and those who come back can't be known by any sign, nor are they changed in any fashion. And yet, if one of them, on his travels, should chance through a town or village, some time later, as though the best-locked gate were standing wide open, a smile goes floating leisurely through certain streets, and from within the turmoil of the soul and its daily harassment, wholeness is abounding as a matter of course.

Edit: removed "Re:" from the title in the subject line.

[Jean Fournell]

Thank you for having so patiently watched the water flow...

The recent sad news on the forum made me hesitate posting that last piece.
But I can trace its beginnings back to at least April 2014 — any apparent parallels are pure coincidence.