The Theory of Correspondences.

Connections

When the stones grew slowly.

The world was made of these. The lines of our perfect stone bodies accepting the first light to grow. When the subtle and the gross became one. The liquid of pain that was the final flowing of what we lost. That pain is thought. It hurt to think of it.

Light is to wisdom as warmth is to love. These are the thoughts that come from the theories of correspondence.

A river delta of branches. A ripening of air in the summer heat. A time in which we stood together and watched the places that grew together.

A curl of tree bark seen in the blink of a deep old eye. Long lashed and ancient.

The blue veins marked on young naked skin became a secret tattooed wing map to deeper understanding.

Life was captured in sculptured stone. Pressed and nearly immortal.

A golden image was made of the things we once worshipped in the light of wisdom. A synchronicity of types fallen from grace.

Lucifer’s comet dropping the distant miles to earth and becoming finely forged steel tempered in cool water.

The legends we believe. The forging of parables and teaching myths for the elements.

The mathematical code of design above is not because the watch maker is signing his work over the eons of time. There is a lack of evidence.

Earth, air, fire and water.

A fall of water is a fall of stars. A fall of blood filled sound.

A rushing of a spirit wind of emotion blocking the nerves from pain and reaching for it’s twin in a universe of identical wishes, forever displaced.

As above, so below.

Father Sun and Mother Moon

It is when the minds grew.

Beyond the teacher. Beyond stories.

The wishes grew with them and time stopped flowing. Only to repeat itself in secret communications such as these.

A stone became a flame.

A flame became a flower.

A flower became a winged feathered wish.

The feather grew the wing. The wing beat the air and the movement caused a moment of original thought.

Stone grew fossilised flowers that died in soft sand. Bone became hard stone.

A congruence began when the stones were built upon by magical hands.

Art became false worship.

And by this the world was formed.

 

 

Author's Note

As above so below is a cornerstone of Hermetic thought and was reputedly found on the Emerald tablet in the dead hands of the legendary Hermes Trismegistus.
The correspondence theory of truth states that the truth or falsity of a statement is determined only by how it relates to the world. The theory of the watchmaker applied to creation suggested that design required a designer.
The painting is mine and is a European Eagle Owl. Private collection UK.

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

This piece spoke to me. I live in the Southwest US and have always felt that when I look at the Rocky mountains - the mesas, the volcanic floe - that I am looking at the "bones of the earth"
Perhaps as an American - in a "young" country - we don't relate to the ancient architecture - the resonance in old buildings because our cities are only a few hundred years old - but ancient places have timbre to them that is hard to articulate. This poem speaks to that thought process in my head.

[Ken Simm.]

I've been to a few places in America where I've felt this feeling of connections. Yosemite, The Pacific coast, the Redwood forests with the trees burning. And I've felt the age of the rocks from Pangia.
Thank you for letting this speak to you.

[Marie Anzalone]

First, kudos on the wonderful painting. I am not sure I understand oyur note... are you saying you painted it, or it is by another painter in your collection?

I will never understand the current obsession with shunning all things scientific. No-one has convinced me yet that the entire Universe is not a living organism whose reason for existence we cannot comprehend. Mythology teaches us the path within, but our observations teach us the path without. Heightened observation, passed down in text, becomes the basis of a civilization that can co-habitate on this beautiful planet. It is that simple. I personally know not enough to either deny or accept existence of a watchmaker. It does not matter- I know we are made of stardust. I know we are constantly eveolving as a planet, as a species. There is something to collective unconsciousness, I think. I know that cultivating compassion helps me not want to kill other human beings with whom I might otherwise violently disagree. Correspondence in human terms is maybe just this, then: There is no evidence that the Universe itslef is anything other than dispassionate. We alone (and maybe humpback whales) can look at it and feel passionate about the wondrous beauty all around us. There is no evidence it was ever created for our use, but we alone can select to either treat it valuable or not. We alone (that we know) can bring passion into the system. And if we stop being cynical for just a damned moment we might actually see how successful we have been at transcribing our world into things we both can and cannot understand, through the milennia. Isn;t that what forms the crux of mythology?

I really loved this one, Ken. Wonderfully executed, and the language is superb. I always walk away form your work with a changed perspective, or at the very least, a reminder to myself to stop tryign to blend in.

[Ken Simm.]

It is my painting Marie. In that I did it. I knew the owl as well. Your extraordinary review need a more complete reply than I can give at the moment. So I will return forthwith. In the meantime thank you so much for giving my writing such thought.

[Rogue]

You did a wonderful job of translating this philosophy through the wording and lines. Not an easy feat by any means. As for the context, philosophies vary so widely on the subject of creation.. I simply enjoy reading them as I find myself somewhat fascinated by the theories and thoughts.

I also loved the painting as owls are a true favorite of mine. :)

[Ken Simm.]

Thank you so much my friend. That is it I find myself fascinated also. It is why one of my basic beliefs is the journey is more important than the destination. In fact any destination would be so far outside our compass of thought as to be impossible to reach. to ll intents and purposes in an expanding infinite universe a destination does not exist for us.
Thank you so much for the understanding and thoughtfu words. I am honoured.

[Ken Simm.]

He is a European Eagle Owl called Fluffy would you believe?

[Rogue]

You are welcome.
Fluffy? That made me smile. He does look soft if not regal. :)

[Ken Simm.]

I know but Fluffy?..... When I sold this painting I called him Polonius. At least then they could call him Polly.

[Rogue]

-grin-

Better fluffy than the name of a parrot methinks.

[Ken Simm.]

I suppose so. He would still take your arm off soon as look at you. Whatever he was called. Before my friend rescued him he was used for hunting foxes.

[Ken Simm.]

And I bet no one would say to him Whose a pretty boy then?

[Rogue]

Oh, I have no doubt. They are to be respected and rightly feared. Very formidable when they stretch the air wings out to full span. And those claws and that beak are wicked sharp.

[Rogue]

The air = their

[Ken Simm.]

I quite like the air wings. Have you ever flown one? Or done any falconry?

[Rogue]

No, not personally. I have watched them close up though handled by bird trainers.

I just sent you a rare read request on a very short but true story of something that happened early winter here (we don't get cold until Very late January).

[ChemicalMadness]

Yours, friend, is a unique and brilliant mind. What a world you've taken us through. Your voice resounds quiet like a shaman....or a Sherpa ;)

[Ken Simm.]

What wonderful words. I don't know what to say other thn I am so honoured; which is enormously inadequate.
I did once think that Sherpa Tensing and Hilary were a magic act. :)

[Sami Khalil]

"A stone became a flame.

A flame became a flower.

A flower became a winged feathered wish.

The feather grew the wing. The wing beat the air and the movement caused a moment of original thought.

Stone grew fossilised flowers that died in soft sand. Bone became hard stone"
All interconnected to an original spirit of Light and a Designer of all creation and this poem . Creation is a will not a thought only for He can say to anything Be and it is . All others are the reflection of human cognition ...Excellent write...:)
Into my faves...:)

[Ken Simm.]

Thank you so much Sami for looking and liking. And more thanks for the fave.

[Sami Khalil]

My pleasure...Any time...:)

[Chris]

Thoughts are as we understand them be. And "Fluffy" is proud of you ...chuckling here,

[Ken Simm.]

Now that is deep Chris. And the bit about thoughts as well. Thanks for looking my friend.

[Coyote Poetry]

"The legends we believe. The forging of parables and teaching myths for the elements."
I enjoyed the complete poem. I like the thoughts and old wisdom in your words. The longer I live. The less I understand. I believe we must treat our world around us with care and gentleness. Hope we are walking upon the right path.
"Light is to wisdom as warmth is to love. These are the thoughts that come from the theories of correspondence."
I do my best to set the example. We teach by how we live. Our children will follow our example. I like the above line. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry. Kind of poetry to open the door to thoughts and possibilities. Thank you for the outstanding poem.
Coyote

[Ken Simm.]

The longer I live the less I understand. So true John. That is why I place emphasis on the journey rather than the destination. I'm glad you like this. Thank you so much.

[Emily B]

true magic, took my breath away

[Ken Simm.]

What a great thing to say dear friend. Thank you.

[J. J. Nightingale]

What ............... ?

I know how to swim .. but not in deep waters ... sigh

J.

[Ken Simm.]

Why do some things look like other things and the stories we told to explain that. Thanks for looking Jazz.

[J. J. Nightingale]

:).................... ?

[Ken Simm.]

I do tend towards the obscure Jazz. I know its one of my faults. Not that I have many he said humbly:)