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Commentary by Ivan M. Granger
This is such an interesting poem to me on several levels. Sometimes Persian poets will make reference to a king's hunting hawk. It is an image of noble bearing, heights of vision, and fierce service. But here Sanai compares meditation itself to a hunting hawk.
of Intellect's wrist
resting at last
on the flowering branch
of the Heart:
That's a great element of the metaphor to contemplate: meditation begins with the intellect, but leaves the intellect behind. It then soars high into the heavens, before coming to rest in the wild, naturally flowering heart. That right there is worth its thinking about more deeply.
striking there -- each moment
But the lines that describe meditation as a hunter are what most grab my attention. Meditation boldly hunts all of existence, vanquishing everything between earth and heaven. Every single instant is prey for meditation. "Each moment fresh prey..."
For meditation, everything is prey, everything is food. And, as meditation hunts, the meditator sits still, watching in wonder, as this fierce hawk clears away the multiplicities of existence in the vision of unity.
But hawking is the game of kings. Here's our challenge: Do we sport with the world as kings, or do we clip meditation's wings?
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2002 - 2011 by Ivan M. Granger.
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