The centre of the mandala is everywhere, Wherever the eye falls The mystery begins to unfold; it is there, The growing-point of love, an ever-opening rose Perceived as light on leaf or shadow under, And in the brooding heart the wings stir Of the bird whose flight is through a thousand skies. The centre of the mandala is the secret We have always known: Sometimes a hazel-nut in the palm of the hand, Sometimes it covers the whole sky, Or rains down on a city Making strange places all familiar Because the light that touches them is our own. The centre of the mandala is possibility Of incarnation, seed of the tree About whose beams the myriad stars turn, I the infinity where all selves converge Into the perennial circle of the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE TO A WOOD by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 12 by THOMAS CAMPION HARVEST SONG by LUDWIG HENRICH CHRISTOPH HOLTY IN THE MILE END ROAD by AMY LEVY BALLAD OF HECTOR IN HADES by EDWIN MUIR |