On Tying Techelet
June 04, 2002
My fingers are sea green.
Saturated string bled
its blue stain
leeched from a strained
seabed snail.
Threaded through me —
inbetween indigo and
celestial cerulean — a dye
darkened to deepen
a practice of Presence.
spun differently
consistently
winding wound up
math of heaven
knots are far from planar
strands and strings are our maps
marking paths of woven light
the thread cleaving eternal night
the first corner is awkward, unwieldy, rebellious
a mental picture of completion competes with
an imposition of intention
we wish for our first offerings
to result in symmetry, balance
the complexity of one thread
myriad fibers fall over each other
locked into unity by the tension of opposites
unraveled, weakened by too much torion in one direction
knots as five phases of life:
birth
adulthood–bar/mat mitzvah
career/vocation
fruition
death
finite closed loop to open ended infinity
–conversely–
frayed, fractious undifferentiation to unified field
edges
completion of universe through participation in
North–South–East–West symmetry;
being a universal pole,
antipodal inside–outside
the tent of the body
Posted June 4, 2002 05:38 PM
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