Demeter

 The mysteries remain,

I keep the same

cycle of seed-time

and of sun and rain;

Demeter in the grass,

I multiply,

renew and bless

Bacchus in the vine;

I hold the law,

I keep the mysteries true,

the first of these

to name the living, dead;

I am the wine and bread.

I keep the law,

I hold the mysteries true,

I am the vine,

the branches, you

and you.

Hilda Doolittle

of course

of course, the way of the blue flower is totally different

(and yet, the same)

there is a way out

speech is blasphemy, silence a lie. above speech and silence there is a way out - said Chan master I-Tuan, roughly twelve centuries ago. 

on this mid-autumn day, no different than other mid-autumn days, than the ones I-Tuan  himself must have known, this way out is the way of the yellow flower.

the frog and the lotus

there is a world where the frog and the lotus are a prince under a curse and a captive princess. later on, when everybody has ceased to believe in magic, the frog and the lotus still mean a multitude of things, like metamorphosis and purity, fertility and self-awareness and so on. this is unavoidable, it would seem.

there is also a world where the frog and the lotus mean nothing else than "frog" and "lotus",  yet just by existing the words themselves place the frog and the lotus under a different kind of curse. together with us, of course. this is unavoidable, it would seem.

how is the world, then, when there is nobody to look at it? there is no such world, it would seem, and this is also unavoidable.