Poetry 162: Flowing Seamlessly

Flowing Seamlessly

The dusty gray clouds

parted for the

briefest of moments today-

just enough time for a slim

ray of sunlight to slip

right through.

Through my new large

office window, right

above the entrance of

a hospital, where families

rush inside to get the most terrible

news of their most beloved.

Beloved father, mother,

partner, child,

grandparent, & best friend.

All that invisible glue and

intangible love that organizes

our ridiculously messy lives.

Lives surrounded by tigers

who stand on the edges of

the cliff where we hang off

the side, all the while

eating a luscious

strawberry.

Lives built upon fragility, vulnerability,

uncertainty, and of course,

death.

Death of this moment,

and then the next.

Flowing seamlessly, beauty

upon terror, terror upon

beauty. Beginning to end,

end to beginning.

Look, the sunlight is

camouflaged once more.

Once more.

-Me

Poetry 161: Gratitude in This Very Moment

I don’t speak of the gift, because not for everything that’s given to you can you really be grateful. You can’t be grateful for war in a given situation, or violence, or sickness, things like that.

So the key, when people ask, “Can you be grateful for everything?” — no, not for everything, but in every moment.

Brother David Steindl-Rast, 2015

Gratitude in This Very Moment

The shadowy beauty of dawn and dusk

This extra hot cup of coffee in my right hand

The way my son still holds a hug longer that I think he will

Gentle kisses from my not-quite 2 year-old kitty who still gets into all kinds of mischief

The ability to afford takeout on a Friday night

Anything by Henri Nouwen

Super soft blankets tucked in tight under my chin at bedtime

Wild turkeys causing traffic during the morning commute

Hurt transforming into wisdom

The way technology still allows me to see your sweet face

Caring for my own body in an extended rag doll until the release comes

This quiet moment right here

-Me

P.S. Okay, now it is your turn. What are you grateful for in this very moment right here? A tip, don't force it. Just open, and see what is already there.

Poetry 160: Legacy

Legacy

They say in the rooms

that hurt (adjective) people,

hurt (verb) people.

In the case of my mother,

and her mother before her,

nothing could be

more true.

You see,

my mother was never

able to figure out

how to not hate me-

even though,

in her best moments

I think she really wanted to.

But how does one

who lives in a constant

state of lost and confused,

ever find a pathway to kindness?

A wise, 84 year-old

American JewBu once said:

“When we are confused,

we forget to be kind.

When we are not confused,

we remember to be kind.”

I truly hope to remember.

But intergenerational family

patterns of hardwired hurt

can make DNA disassembly

feel next to impossible at times.

And oddly, it is even seen

by some local insiders

as disloyal to fathom breaking

a toxic legacy

that has left so many casualties

in a state of chronic heartbreak.

But then, remarkably,
I find myself

gazing down into the round,

blue eyes of my own

6 year-old daughter

as she engineers her newest invention

out of duct tape and recycled paper towel rolls,

and I know for absolute certain,

the spell has finally been broken.

-Me

Poetry 159: When I Grow Up

When I Grow Up

“How do we practice with difficulty, with our emotions, with the unpredictable encounters of an ordinary day?...[How can] this ‘I’ who wants to find security—who wants something to hold on to—finally learn to grow up.”                     

-Pema Chodron from The Places That Scare You

When I grow up,

I will stop the futility

of forcing

people to love me.

When I grow up,

I will stop wearing

bras & other uncomfortable

clothes that are too small

for my body.

When I grow up,

I’ll remember & accept

that every precious

(and not-so precious) experience

will come to an end.

When I grow up,

I will rightly think of

my body as the ally

that it unquestionably is.

When I grow up,

I will properly accept the possibility

for greed, hatred &

ignorance in humanity,

but I won’t despair

about it.

When I grow up,

I’ll let people love me

all the way.

When I grow up,

I will interrupt

unfunny jokes

and other unkind remarks

that demean others.

When I grow up,

I won’t worry about

work when I am

not actually at work.

When I grow up,

I will stop clinging

to people who let

go of me.

When I grow up,

I’ll stop gossiping

about others when they

are not there to

defend themselves.

When I grow up,

I will appropriately let go of

long-held, bitter resentments

that take away from the

quality of my own life.

When I grow up,

I will know that

I truly do have

enough.

When I grow up,

I’ll let the mystery be

a real thing that

I don’t ever need

to figure out.

When I grow up,

I will justly sense

my place and value

on this earth

every single day.

When I grow up,

I will finally reconcile

the inherent inequality

conceived in the

lottery of birth.

When I grow up,

I’ll allow my ego

to ride shotgun for once,

and let my soul

take the wheel.

When I grow up,

I will still experience

some embarrassment

for my mistakes & short-comings,

but, I will no longer allow

my mistakes & short-comings

to define me.

When I grow up,

I will see the lovely humanity

of every person

I speak to-

even those who

vote differently than I do.

When I grow up,

I’ll definitely floss & dance more.

And when I do finally grow up,

I will most certainly,

never again doubt,

the way you and me are

precisely one-and-the-same.

-Me

P.S. Now I invite you to go out and write your very own...Here, I'll start you off: "When I grow up..."