As I sit, live, and breathe, verses of Kabir's poems draw me into their mesmerizing simplicity.
"Between the poles of the conscious and the unconscious,
there has the mind made a swing."
I wish there was a way to have a conversation with him, apart from reading him through his verses. I seem to be drawn to all aspects of magical realism; in art, in words and in songs. Kabir, Rumi, Sigur Ros and Shilo; their work always gives me a cumulative mental picture equivalent of a border-less sky with stars looping into infinity.
Was Kabir one of the greatest philosophers of the mystical realms? Or was he just a pot smoker expounding philosophy?
I guess maybe the two needn't be mutually exclusive.
"Between the poles of the conscious and the unconscious,
there has the mind made a swing."
I wish there was a way to have a conversation with him, apart from reading him through his verses. I seem to be drawn to all aspects of magical realism; in art, in words and in songs. Kabir, Rumi, Sigur Ros and Shilo; their work always gives me a cumulative mental picture equivalent of a border-less sky with stars looping into infinity.
Was Kabir one of the greatest philosophers of the mystical realms? Or was he just a pot smoker expounding philosophy?
I guess maybe the two needn't be mutually exclusive.
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