It is ancient but not old.
The Taoist master Chuang Tzu
first spoke of it in the 3rd century
BC as the Great Ridgepole that holds
the Unseeable Tent of the Universe
open. Around which we dance. Trying
to leave it. Always coming back. Within
a hundred years it was known as Tai Chi.
In the Tang Dynasty an unknown poet
spoke of life as swinging on the Great
Ridgepole. Hundreds of years later, a
Spanish poet said that meeting another
living through monsoons, a Hindu master
said that we move until we tire into stillness.
Then we are still till we grow impatient to
move. One blossoms into the other. In
that blossoming we become wakeful.
In such moments we are the bubbles
carried by water, the blue within the heart
of every flame, the aliveness sleeping inside
every ache. It is ancient but not old. Meet
me at the Ridgepole. We can take our
turn swinging around eternity.