The Dao And The De Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

She is the Dao.
He is the De.

She is the primordial ooze:
Murky, dark, fluid, unbeautiful.
No, pre-beautiful.
Her murkiness is not to cloud Man’s vision, to hide from Him.
It is simply the way things are.
Her darkness is not the lack of light,
It is the richness of Her soul.
Her fluidity is not a lack of conviction.
It is Her willingness to Serve.

Alone she is self-sufficient.
Alone she is eternal.
Alone she is formless.

But she longs to be formed.
She longs to be handled.
She longs to see her own beauty.

Only He can shape her.
He is the De.
He is the Life.
He is the Human Longing for form and light and truth.

Truth is said to be eternal, unchanging.
But that is an illusion.
The truth is as fluid as ooze.
It is just that men cannot see on Her Scale of time and breadth.
Like a lotus unfurling, the petals do not seem to move,
But stop-gap photography can show us their dance of revelation.

The De is the Magician, the Alchemist.
He tries to undress Her, to peel off her veils.
He whispers incantations into Her ear.
But She refuses to show Herself.

Neither will she allow Him to mold Her into something She is not.
She will not be cast.
She will not be fired.
She soaks in his light, yet remains dark.

Still She likes His ministrations, She feels His warmth.
He likes the way the coolness of Her feels in His hands.

So She continues to allow Him to explore Her Secrets.
He continues to attempt to fathom Her Depths.
But he is still the Novice.
She remains undone.

When He becomes the Master,
She will become His Masterpiece.

But like a sand painting, She will shift again.
And He will begin again.

New names.
New codes.
New missions impossible.
New Life.

And yet She remains eternally the Dao.