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A Field That Breathes – a POEM

 

Catalina Isaza Cantor - Colombia, India

Catalina

There is something sacred

about a space where no one is asked

to fit,

where the path opens

and no one guards the gate.

Here, Theosophy is not a name to defend

but a presence that invites,

asks nothing,

and allows everything.

Some arrive with questions,

some with longing,

others with doubt.

Each one is welcome.

Each one is free to stay,

or leave,

or return again someday.

The teachings —

they are not monuments.

They are seeds.

They must be planted in living soil

and allowed to grow into something real.

And if they do not serve the soul

or nourish the world,

then we must ask:

what are they for?

Now, new tools speak in new tongues.

Artificial Intelligence

can help us remember

that truth wears many faces.

It can shape learning to the individual,

translate silence into sound,

build bridges across time and language

so that meaning is not lost —

but transformed.

Let the young shape the forms.

Let the elders carry the fire.

Let both sit down together,

not to teach or correct,

but to listen and discover

what still wants to be born.

As for me—

I stayed because I was free to go.

I stayed because no one told me

what to believe.

I stayed because I found companions,

who did not need to agree,

only to walk with me awhile.

This is what matters:

not the books, not the structures,

but the quiet,

and the love that lingers

when everything else is stripped away.

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This poem was also published in The Theosophist, VOL. 146 NO. 10. JULY 2025

The Theosophist is the official organ of the International President, founded by H. P. Blavatsky on 1 Oct. 1879.

To read the JULY 2025 issue click HERE