He filled the earthen pots with water
and was pleased to see the light reflecting
in each one as in the guise of sun He shone.
The wind quickly came and with a natural force
stirred the water with particles of dust and clay
to mix with the the clear liquid which it muddied made
and the reflections dimmed as He shined
on the the rippled surface within each earthen shrine.
He called the sages to attend
and with gentle words they calmed the wind
as slowly the dirt mixed in, settled and each pot within
began to shine more strongly with His light.
The scientists came and saw
that the separation could easily be made
between the water pure to taste
and the dirt and dust and clay
that seeming hides the purity that in each pot resides.
The poets came and looked and said to Him
that is fine and good, the light is bright
in each and every pot but on the surface
ripples hide the vision that is rightly found
by all of us, by all mankind.
The sages calmed the winds but they still play
upon the surface of the rimmed pots of clay.
They implored him, pleaded that he might
make the wind and earth completely still
and with their love and earnest song
He agreed to to tell the wind, 'be gone'.
In each pot a mirror formed
and instead of just reflected light
an image formed so bright
of a golden orb, The sun, its glory in its perfect form.
The scientist said there is just one
golden orb that is the sun.
The poets said they would write a song
proclaiming the glory of
the many forms of God in each and every pot
no matter how it had appeared
before the wind had gone from here.
David Taylor
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-not-many/
