The Heart that Sees

What is truth?
You should ask “What is the heart?”
Start with all the eyes who weave around it,
fixed and staring, locked and loaded:
The psychological plumbing,
The medical diagrams,
the stories of love and pain,
in music and literature,
heavy and light:
all are lost:
in the whole.

Everything you learn about the heart
wraps the heart in darkness
and keeps it from the subtle rhythms
of body and the great seasons:
can you see a bird and see a mystery?
can you look at your lover’s face
and see abyss?

And that is the Great Mystery,
from which all ideas are born
and where all ideas die.

He who tries to Control the Mystery,
Will be swallowed up inside of it,
and will learn that all knowledge,
expectation, estimations, and judgments,
have purchased all his grief,
and that he is all for nothing.

Watch the eye and see what it sees:
Can you find the eye that sees that eye,
And the eye that sees that and that…
Until this
heart baffles it?

For only the heart can know the heart,
not the eye,

This is the Source of which we speak,
the enigmatic darkness that holds the light
and all its visions, the eyes who conjure
into consciousness, a wee tip of the iceberg
a small piece of dust upon the sand,
that is your consciousness.

One eye sees only a fraction of the layers,
an ology of all ologies that do not reveal,
but conceal that heart
that sings not from itself, but from ologies.

But if you sing from truth,
you will be as the Great Mystery,
and you will not be captured,
and men will not build prisons
and call it science,
or create Wastelands
and call them Peace:
No,
Great Bird of the skies,
Hawk of the heavens
and the underworld,
therein you shall fly
and so marvel at the wind,
the seas and the stars,
the earth below:
that your heart is
Free, beautiful bird,
Free.