Comments on: In the Pocket of a Seashell http://epiphanygirl.wordpress.com/2007/11/17/in-the-pocket-of-a-seashell/ The new Epiphany Girl can't write yet, so it's up to Epiphany's Mama to tell her story Thu, 24 Dec 2009 17:55:19 +0000 http://wordpress.com/ hourly 1 By: girlwhocriedepiphany http://epiphanygirl.wordpress.com/2007/11/17/in-the-pocket-of-a-seashell/#comment-46 girlwhocriedepiphany Sat, 01 Dec 2007 14:41:01 +0000 http://epiphanygirl.wordpress.com/2007/11/17/in-the-pocket-of-a-seashell/#comment-46 Doug, Thank you so much for this beautiful poem. You captured that constant dance of the waves of becoming and retreating that is within all of us so very well. And the way you describe that secret that we already know but do not wish to acknowledge (yet!) is perfect. The spiritual path seems to be constantly marked by playing with self awareness and awakening, but at a safe enough distance so that we do not have to go too deep, so we do not have to change everything. But we can always accept the call... Doug,
Thank you so much for this beautiful poem. You captured that constant dance of the waves of becoming and retreating that is within all of us so very well. And the way you describe that secret that we already know but do not wish to acknowledge (yet!) is perfect. The spiritual path seems to be constantly marked by playing with self awareness and awakening, but at a safe enough distance so that we do not have to go too deep, so we do not have to change everything. But we can always accept the call…

]]> By: Doug http://epiphanygirl.wordpress.com/2007/11/17/in-the-pocket-of-a-seashell/#comment-43 Doug Wed, 28 Nov 2007 04:14:55 +0000 http://epiphanygirl.wordpress.com/2007/11/17/in-the-pocket-of-a-seashell/#comment-43 Hi Epiphany Girl, Thanks for your recent comment and for linking to OneBlog from your own site. I enjoyed this post very much, and it made me think of a poem that I wrote many years ago when I was wrestling with issues of identity and becoming. I'd like to share it with you now. It's called Shore, a fitting offering considering the aquatic thread that runs through your entry: The water has always been there, Slapping the crag rock-hewn face of rugged shoreline. Where does it start, where is the black heart’s source? Its currents that swirl and beckon me with each passing movement. Hiss of foam, crest that beats relentless, whispering a secret that I already knew, A memory. How can this mirror reflect what is not seen, and speak to me of that left unspoken? Constant whisper and retreat, coaxing me deeper, gentle entreaty, an invitation. Can I bear the painful price of entering into this sea of myself? Did I come to your shore only to stand at its edge, to let your cold waters break seductively across my feet, only to retreat to safer ground? Where the longing for self-knowledge gnaws but does not devour, And the distance from the depths shields me from that moment, no price is exacted that I am not yet prepared to pay. Will you accept this in lieu of that for which I was created to become? Or will the sun rise tomorrow on a heart that dares to take up the unbearable weight of your summons? Hi Epiphany Girl,

Thanks for your recent comment and for linking to OneBlog from your own site. I enjoyed this post very much, and it made me think of a poem that I wrote many years ago when I was wrestling with issues of identity and becoming. I’d like to share it with you now. It’s called Shore, a fitting offering considering the aquatic thread that runs through your entry:

The water has always been there,
Slapping the crag rock-hewn face of rugged shoreline.
Where does it start, where is the black heart’s source?
Its currents that swirl and beckon me with each passing movement.
Hiss of foam, crest that beats relentless, whispering a secret that I already knew,
A memory.
How can this mirror reflect what is not seen, and speak to me of that left unspoken?
Constant whisper and retreat, coaxing me deeper, gentle entreaty, an invitation.
Can I bear the painful price of entering into this sea of myself?
Did I come to your shore only to stand at its edge, to let your cold waters break seductively across my feet, only to retreat to safer ground?
Where the longing for self-knowledge gnaws but does not devour,
And the distance from the depths shields me from that moment, no price is exacted that I am not yet prepared to pay.
Will you accept this in lieu of that for which I was created to become?
Or will the sun rise tomorrow on a heart that dares to take up the unbearable weight of your summons?

]]> By: yogasuzi http://epiphanygirl.wordpress.com/2007/11/17/in-the-pocket-of-a-seashell/#comment-31 yogasuzi Sun, 18 Nov 2007 06:00:41 +0000 http://epiphanygirl.wordpress.com/2007/11/17/in-the-pocket-of-a-seashell/#comment-31 Thank you for this lovely post. Thank you for this lovely post.

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