No One Saw What I Did

I hadn't intended to write anything today, but i've been laying in bed reading a few poems in that wonderful anthology A Book Of Luminous Things and the below poem by Bronislaw Maj forced me to get out my computer and say something ... anything ... before the thoughts go away overnight.

A Leaf

A leaf, one of the last, parts from a maple branch:
it is spinning in the transparent air of October, falls
on a heap of others, stops, fades. No one
admired its entrancing struggle with the wind,
followed its flight, no one will distinguish it now
as it lies among other leaves, no one saw
what I did. I am
the only one.

One of the great things about poetry is that if 100 of us all sat down and read the same poem, all 100 of us could well walk away with a different interpretation of its meaning. Each of us would approach the reading from different perspectives; different ages, different social status, different life experiences, different genders, different educations, different attitudes towards the spiritual, different beliefs, different ideologies, different prejudices and biases, different mental and emotional states at the time of the reading, and on, and on. And all of this means each of us views the same poem through different lenses.

I'd bet that my read of this poem is completely different from what the author intended. In fact, after i read it, i actually blinked and reread it wondering if i was way off track. But, i just can't shake it.

First off, reread the poem, but as you do, read the words "no one" as if they had quotes around them. This "no one" isn't "nobody" or "no person," but me or you after having spent time meditating under the maple tree, after the mind has finally quieted down, after thoughts have finally stopped, after the ego has finally disappeared. By taking that inward step, "I" am no longer there, but "no one" is there, taking everything in. "No One," because all labels that could be used to place me in a category have disappeared. "No One," because there is nothing that you can pin on me to set me apart from anything else. I am not Some One any more, it is my original self sitting there. Observing.

One chilly October morning, a leaf, the last of countless leaves, finally drops to the ground, joining all the other leaves in a pile after floating slowly this way and that, circling lazily to the right for a while and then just as lazily to the left before settling onto the heap.

As this is happening, someone sits quietly in meditation beneath the tree; aware of all that is happening, but not focused on any of it. In the outside world there are countless differences. It is October, it is chilly, there are multiple leaves, with most on the ground but one left on the tree. In the outside world, there is discrimination, there is me and you, there is me and a tree, me and a leaf, a leaf on the tree and a leaf on the ground. There is movement, there is up on the tree and down on the ground. There is struggle and there is final peace and acceptance. There is a beginning and an end.

In the inner world, though, there is none of that. There is just "this," and that includes everything and nothing, it includes all of space and all of time, or, more accurately, neither space nor time exist apart from everything else. The leaf is space, the tree is space, the falling is time, the leaf drifting in the wind is space and time manifesting as a falling leaf.

And "no one" is also included, sitting under the tree as the leaf drifts down in front of his seat. No one admires the beauty of the experience, no one admires the gracefulness of the process, no one sees all of the leaves lying under the tree. No thoughts were required or wanted. There was no observer or observed, just an experience.

But, without intellectualizing it, No One did notice one thing more important even than the falling leaf. No One saw what "I" did during this period: "I" had gone away, "I" had disappeared, "I" had stepped out of the way leaving No One to stand alone, uncovered, unhindered, unencumbered.

"I" realized that there was no separation between it and the rest of the universe. There is just existence. There is just Being. "I am the only one." Of course. If there is only One, how could I not be the only one? And No One smiled when he saw the lesson learned.

So, with all that under your belt, reread the poem from that perspective. It's incredibly beautiful.


Boy am i glad i decided to read a few poems tonight. That was a great one!