In a sense this is a follow up on my previous blog entry, “Every Day is a Good Day,” the teisho by young Agnes.
My friend Holly sends me poetry. The following was sent under the heading “This one’s not about death!” Of course, she was trying to trick me. It’s all about death. And all about life. And all about passion. Each thing in its moment, one hundred percent.
In our culture we seem to miss one hundred percent. Mostly we trivialize it with meaningless terms like one hundred and twenty percent or two hundred percent.
But life really is a call just to this.
One hundred percent.
Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children’s faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup.
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit’s still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.