A Glimpse to Open Pt. Eye [I]

By Danielle Sainte-Marie

A Glimpse to Open Pt. Eye [I] is the first poetry book written by international award winning authoress Danielle Sainte-Marie. It is an eclectic mix of themes: lesbian, eternity, temporality, spirituality, mystery, relationships, love, and more. You will be sure to love it!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312658080

Book preview

A Glimpse to Open Pt. Eye [I]

A GLIMPSE TO OPEN PT. EYE [I] DELUXE

BY

DANIELLE SAINTE-MARIE

This book is dedicated to one individual and one entire population.

First, to C: I love you, now and always;

you are my amusing benefactor,

and I am your eccentric artist.

We are a perfect match.

Thank you for helping both our dreams become reality.

Second, to Everyone and Everything:

You are all my sisters, brothers and animal-friends,

no exceptions.

I love all of you;

for you and I are all one and the same.

(Author’s Note: In the interest of reducing printing costs and saving on paper production in our critical, modern times, this book is published at a higher cost (because less will be sold this way) for those that truly wish to own and cherish this deluxe version.)

All Rights Reserved,

All poetry and quotes are by Danielle Sainte-Marie, unless otherwise indicated.

Lilac Shadows Publishing, International ©

ISBN: 978-1-312-65808-0

Inside a Glimpse

I lay here on my couch, tears flowing down, thinking, What more is there in life than this? All that can exist beyond this current feeling or state of mind of Mystical Oneness are simply more experiences of the same. I cannot fear death any longer, for I have already died. The wait for the death of the physical body is simply a prolonged state to a euphoria that I have here and now; indeed, death has always been me—it’s just been waiting for me to realize it.

Last night, I was up for hours writing poetry—I have, in fact, begun writing Inside a Glimpse Pt. II. I have always wondered why I wake up at 2 or 3 am and feel an overwhelming urge to write poetry, and now I believe I have, at least, a temporary answer. I think that, while sleeping, my Shadow Self emerges more strongly and wakes me up to become its Prophetess. I am simply more in tune with it at that time of night. I often find myself writing something that, the next morning, I am staring at in awe—wondering how in the world such a thing came out of me.

Yesterday, as I contemplated the finishing of this book and what it means, I reflected on the last 33 years of poetic work I have accomplished. From my first poem, Wheels, written in 1976, to my final poem for this book, To Jordyn, written in 2009, it has been a long, amazing road of self-discovery. I thought of Zen, walking meditations, Emily Dickinson, Sylvia Plath, Daphne Hutchins (co-author with me on our book Hidden), Robert Frost, Jim Morrison, Jane Beitscher, Ninjutsu (which I currently hold the Yondan license in), Mikkyo, Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, mythology, Joseph Campbell, Carl Jung, The Temple of Human Experience (the religion I founded) and all the countless sources of amazingly insightful inspirations and muses over the last three decades that I have had the great fortune to take deeply into my being. I thought of all the incredible changes I have been through, and how no one will probably believe my autobiography because it truly is a chronicle of a life seemingly authored by someone else, someone unseen and sometimes vengeful, but also someone with a great sense of irony and possibly even humor.

As I wondered what new phases of poetry I would now fall into writing, and what the next thirty years might appear like, I fell asleep last night with this, as well as all the above reflections, all working on my concept of Self through the Shadow. My Ego was along—as always—for the ride, wanting to try and control things.

Apparently not satisfied to just revel in the ending of the first phase of my poetic works, I awoke at 1:55 am and, dead tired, felt the inspiration to get out of bed to go write. I learned a long time ago that I had to heed that inner call, or else I would forget what I had been thinking by the next morning, and lose the full inspiration needed to convey its message. So, there I was typing away the wee hours of this morning; I completed two poems and stared at them, thinking, "Wow, those are really different in meter than anything else I have written; and yet, there still were the familiar themes of Sunsets and Shadows, ideas of Oneness, communing with nature, and seeing the Self everywhere. Excited over the new poetry I had written, and thrilled to be working on this next phase of my life, I nevertheless forced myself back to bed and lay awake for hours before falling asleep.

I woke up about 7 am, and as usual, the early morning conversation around here between me and the important people in my life, turned intellectual and deeply metaphysical. Now, one of the people I live with is a world renowned scientist, Dr. Chloe Jennings-White, PhD (Cambridge), an Organic Chemist. She is also an avid enthusiast of mathematics and how it can be used to get a glimpse of the Eternal Transcendent Mystery. That is how I also view poetry; it is a vehicle to the Source, where all is One and yet Zero, and Nothing exists side-by-side with Something.

Chloe was telling me about Pythagoras and Pi, which is an irrational number, infinitely long. She began getting into the theory of E=I, etc, and how it is a mathematical model for the Eternal, or what is called Transcendental Numbers. This struck me, as I recalled a poem I had written one early morning, called 60 Thought 29. To be quite candid, I had no idea what two lines in the poem meant in their mathematical significance until this morning. Now, here is part of what I had written:

This am I, 29

sounds like E

but it’s really I…

a face in time

…                        Illusions                    all!

…The death of divisional myth,

The death of Self,

no creator to act when nothing in Ego lacks.

As I stared at what I had written, and saw the correct—but metaphorical formula—for E, equals I, and how I had alluded to the idea that they were illusions and part of a divisional myth and the death of Self, I began to see that I had inadvertently written a mathematical principle (strangely enough, with the exact same variables) for transcendence. My head swooned, and I became very weak. I felt as though the world before me was fading while simultaneously merging with everything. Either way, I knew I had to lie down. I made my way to the living room couch, and I honestly thought I was going to faint.

I could formulate no more thoughts. My Ego (what I am always trying to force the world to be) let go, and my Shadow (or deeper sense of unconsciousness) merged with my Self (who I really am: an experience of the two competing forces of Ego and Shadow into one being, one universe and one cosmos). I simply lay there, watching the world I had thought was real, drift away. I couldn’t even begin to try to understand, in any rational way, how I had come up with the formula. I always excelled at language arts, and certainly never thought of myself as any type of adept at mathematical computations and theory (or so I thought); but as I lay there I just sensed—more than thought—that everything was truly One and that I was One with everything, and that just…well, it floored me. I couldn’t move. Tears came flowing down as I realized that my own poetry book, A Glimpse to Open, had done its job on me, its author. It is a book meant to open the reader up to the transcendental experience