I really like poems.

I am attracted to poems and art in which more is left out than expressed directly. I’m delighted when presented with an interesting line, a sketch or an idea. I love the empty spaces between the things.

I simply love and appreciate ideas. And I love when my imagination is at work.

The poem below, by Edward Estlin Cummings, is an example of this:

love is a place
& through this place of
love move
(with brightness of peace)
all places

yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skilfully curled)
all worlds


While I read this poem, I imagine a huge leafy forest, a forest of old trees. It is a morning on a warm, summer day, just a few hours after sunrise. The air is dense. Warm but not yet hot. Dew is no longer here, although you may still find some remaining of it.

There is peace and calmness, and yet there is some music in the air. The vibrations are strong. You sense them more than you hear them. The air feels almost palpable, saturated with a message.

And there is sun shining brightly. The sun rays penetrate the forest softly. They begin with strolling slowly between the trees. There is all the time available so that they can look for the nicest clumps of grass. They want to rest there.

Grass is long and gently vibrates to the music. She hears music so strongly indeed. Balls of light slide on the waves of vibration, penetrate each other and enjoy playing hide and seek. They dance elegantly to the rhythm.

Wind behaves impeccably elegantly, as a perfect musician would do. He knows his trade. There you can feel a gentle breeze, perhaps a slight acceleration of wind now and then, but everything with great solemnity. The leaves and the grass gently flutter.

And you stand there in the middle of everything in awe and respect. In the silence you recognize the perfect creation.

The silence is holy. Everything has its own place. Sun, trees, leaves, tree trunks, plants, grass and moss, insects, worms and small animals. Nobody seems to orchestrate this all but everything has its own place and own meaning. You are a witness to a mysterious performance of light, color and movement.

Place and purpose.

You know that love permeates this place. Even more, love creates this space and fills this space.

You breathe love. You belong. You feel accepted and appreciated.

While being in this place, you feel centered and calm. Love is your companion. You are created and you are a creator.

You are an observer and you are an actor.

You commit to Yes.

Love is a place but all other places exist from this place.
Yes is a world but it contains a seed of all worlds.

Is Yes greater than Love???



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