On the off chance yes bits of heaven as that wee bird sings its head off
Somehow as I dig deeper into the history of Zen poetry — now the rise of poetics in third century CE China (Lu Chi) — I want to return to my first love in poetry– W. B. Yeats. As a young teenager The Celtic Twilight; in my late teens, a more analytical study of the sound patterns in the poetry somehow reinforced my ecological bent. Summers in the Sierra. History is weird. One’s contingencies porous to the divine otherness baked into creation. Gads.
TEXT: In my notebook for the this day I had noted that on page 260 of God and the Between, Desmond writes: “Our passage through life takes firm form, but our passing makes fluid again the forms, and the abiding porosity prior to form and beyond form offers again its never closed off chance: chance of ultimate commication between us and the ultimat.”
As you can see from the structure of the passage above, the composition of the sentences uses poetic forms to weave a grammar of the between. Very few philosophers show such mastery of the potentials of language to communicate richly nuanced insights into our common reality.