Ode to the Veil
One doesn’t know
the veil is there
before it is lifted,
Until that aha moment
when it dissolves
opening to a new reality,
a doorway into
the continuing dream.
How many veils
are still up now?
What hides the beauty
that I don't see,
what befalls me
that I don’t breathe in
with reverence?
What love
do I not experience
for some blind spot,
what joy do I
not languish in
for some grid of perception
that comes between it and me?
What small miracle
do I not wonder about
and admire for its brilliance?
What part of life
am I missing?
In my Ode to the Veil
I am hereby ready
to have it removed,
lifted
so I can fully enjoy,
with ecstasy,
the truth surrounding me.
©Sherrie Lovler
December 7, 2009
ABOUT THE POEM
“He hadn’t known the veil was there until it lifted.” Pg. 128 Nature and the Human Soul by Bill Plotkin
Anthony Lawlor, in 24 Patterns of Wisdom, brings up another way of looking at the veil—how we see the world through different grids of perception that we create, which then shape our opinions and vision. He writes how one can consciously blur that belief grid, which then “can guide you toward unforeseen benefits and open you to new, more expanded possibilities of experience.” Pg. 43 (Book available through Ink Monkey Press)
Both of these thoughts guided this poem, as I questioned, how much do I not see?
Bill Plotkin writes about how important our interaction is with the natural world, and most importantly, how crucial it is in a child’s education and experience. He quotes Tomas Berry, “If we lose the forest, we lose our souls.”
Growing up in the Bronx, my parents knew that we needed extended periods of time “in the country.” So for years we went to a bungalow colony in upstate New York each summer. I loved the time we had there in nature. Still, it wasn’t enough to satisfy my early adult yearnings. When I graduated from college I moved to three acres of land and really lived with nature. I remember the first winter when we suffered through four feet of snow and had to crack through three inches of ice to get our drinking water from an old well. I also learned to garden and soon we had a pony and donkey to greet each morning.
Now, with many years of living in small cities, I am wondering, in this poem, if I am really experiencing the natural world as fully as I can. Have I lost some of my appreciation for the small miracles that come from being close to the land? If so, I wish to lift that veil to see clearly again, and appreciate fully the world around me.
How has your growing up close to, or removed from nature, affected your life?
ABOUT THE PAINTING
This is a watercolor painting I did from a trip to Yosemite National Park. There I knew I could experience beauty at its best. How can one help but be in awe at nature in all it’s glory?