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Friday, April 19, 2019

Poetry 150: Consistency

Consistency

 
Only the paradox comes anywhere near to comprehending the fullness of life.

-C.G. Jung


There is sincere

relief and pleasure that

the small bird nest is built

outside my window

once again.


Filled with another family

of robins in this

early spring, in the

exact same branch

that perfectly

held the eggs last

year till hatch.


It seems like

such a gift

of consistency.

 
Because unlike

the reliance

of the robin,

I myself,

am a mess of

contradiction.


Calm and restless.

Hopeful and despairing.

Joyful and melancholic.

Here and gone.


On the other hand,

maybe I am

just honest?


Because it

seems to me,

to live in paradox,

is to live in truth.

And being whole

means being free.


So let me then

be inconsistent.

Let me be a

child and a mother.

A student and a teacher.

Human and divine.

-Me

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