I love this Leonard Cohen poem. It speaks to me how our minds attempt to weave through things linking them, trying to make sense. In the end nothing really does make sense but we remained awed by the meaningless beauty of it all.
My Mind, My Mind, My Mind
My mind
seems to go out
On a path,
The width of a thread,
And of endless length.
A thread that is the same color as the night.
Out,
Out along the narrow highway
Sails my mind,
Driven by curiosity,
Luminous with acceptance.
Far and out,
Like a feathered hook,
Whipped deep above the light of the stream
By a magnificent cast.
Somewhere out of my reach
The hook unbends into a spear,
The spear shears itself into a needle,
And the needle sews the world together.
It sews skin on a skeleton
And liptick on a lip.
It sews scarves to mountains--
It goes through everything
like a relentless bloodstream.
And the tunnel is filled
with a comforting message:
a beautiful knowledge of unity.
All the disparates of the world:
The different wings of the paradox,
Coin faces of problem,
Petal pulling questions,
Scissor shaped conscience,
All the polarities,
Things in their images,
and things which cast no shadow,
And just the everyday explosions on a street;
This face and that;
A house and a toothache,
Explosions which merely have different letters in their names--
My needle pierces it all.
And I myself,
My greedy fantasies,
Everything which has existed
and does exist:
We are part of a necklace of incomparable beauty
and unmeaning.
Leonard Cohen circa 1965
