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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Enlightenment Isn't Lumpy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Enlightenment isn't lumpy<br>even if sometimes you've got your heart <br>stuck in your throat <br>like a bird in a chimney <br>warming up like a phoenix<br>to go the way of the sumac leaves <br>and the ghosts of smoke <br>on the pyres of the sky burials <br>of the Canada geese.<br>Just because November <br>can't feel its pulse <br>and the garden snakes are nesting <br>like a sloppy knot of wavelengths <br>deep in the cold heartwood <br>of a rootless tree that can feel <br>the brutal chill of serpent fire <br>running up its spine like a lightning rod<br>doesn't mean enlightenment's a placebo <br>you have to keep away from the kids. <br>It's real enough to be unattainable <br>without disrespecting the integrity <br>of the picture plane. <br>It hides out in the open <br>where no one ever thinks to look.<br>The simpler it gets <br>the bigger the book you need to write <br>in order to conclude ambiguously <br>you do and you don't not understand it. <br>Say not two<br>and all is well.<br>And mean it deeper than you can say it <br>so that pain doesn't adulterate the child <br>that's trying to transcend it<br>by hanging on to the lifelines <br>of his fire-proof constellations <br>like the kites of distant stars burning in the wind.<br>Enlightenment doesn't care <br>if you've lost your integrity.<br>Your absence of self-respect <br>for someone who isn't there <br>is a rare opportunity <br>to uphold the dignity <br>of stars and rivers and trees.<br>Enlightenment's just the blossom.<br>It's not the fruit <br>of what there is yet to be.<br>The smell of autumn <br>in a windfall of apples <br>cradled like small planets in your arms. <br>Enlightenment isn't salvation from pain.<br>It's an invitation to forsake yourself <br>in the name of nothing you can explain. <br>The blossom let's go to make room for the fruit. <br>The perfumes of the spring give way <br>to the aromas of decay. <br>But they're both sweet<br>because there's nothing about either of them <br>that's everlasting. <br>It may be an old root.<br>But it blossoms in the spring. <br>It may be a dead branch <br>but the nightbird stops to sing. <br>And the full moon shines <br>like a skull full of signs <br>above its dark abundance.<br>Enlightenment isn't out of the reach of anyone<br>because it's got infinitely long arms <br>and puts the stars at your fingertips <br>and says play what you want <br>as long as it's something <br>we all can dance to <br>on our way to the grave <br>like fireflies in the wake of a thunderstorm.<br>Enlightenment doesn't take life too seriously <br>even when it makes a tantrum <br>of its elemental innocence<br>and goes supernova.<br>Deep in the nuclear core of its heart <br>it's creatively playful on a cosmic scale.<br>The darkest inspiration <br>of its genius for making <br>an art of its existence<br>is life.<br>Simple and beautiful <br>as the laughter of children <br>collecting sea shells on the moon.<br>Even when you're severely lost <br>enlightenment doesn't hand you a flashlight <br>and say go look for your mind <br>like the holy grail in a sacred wood. <br>It deepens your solitude.<br>It blows the candle out <br>until you emerge like a star<br>from the profusion of your own darkness<br>and stand in the doorway <br>of your own shining<br>amazed by what you can see <br>when enlightenment isn't blinding.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476556" data-title="Enlightenment Isn't Lumpy de Patrick White" data-description="Enlightenment isn't lumpy
even if sometimes you've got your heart 
stuck in your throat 
like a bird in a chimney 
warming up like a phoenix
to go the way of the sumac leaves 
and the ghosts of smoke 
on the pyres of the sky burials 
of the Canada..."></div>
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