Poetry 165: Taking Refuge: The Fourth Jewel

Taking Refuge: The Fourth Jewel

Dear Mary,

I went into the woods today

because I wanted to

commune with you,

my grandmother’s copy of Whitman,

and the 4 grey herons who

promptly took flight

the very moment I arrived.

This time of year—I bet

you will appreciate this little detail—

in mid-spring, New England,

the baby maple leaves

have just blossomed into

a canopy of treetops that is

this totally fantastic shade of technicolor

lime-green; it looks like nature’s own

manifestation of joy

that even the most melancholic person

must bow to with a slight smile.

It’s mornings like these

that I think of nature, the wilderness,

as my own fourth Jewel.

A place where I can take refuge

from a human world that

often feels like too damn

much to bear.

I’ve often wondered 
over the years

if you ever felt the same

when you were skipping

school in Ohio, or later in adulthood

when you wandered the dunes of the Cape.

I like to think I’m not the only one.

-Me

Spiritual Lessons from Nature Part XVII: Interdependence

(photo by me from the Cherry tree in my front yard this spring)

If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.

-Attributed to Lilla Watson, Indigenous Australian, in a 1985 UN Speech in Nairobi

It would seem a global pandemic of COVID-19 would be a good time to remind myself of this truth from the natural world.

Poetry 164: A Prayer for Emptiness

A Prayer for Emptiness

(photo by me from New England woods)

Each step I take
allows another layer
of protection to
fall away.

And the more I lose,
carves a deeper, more
luxurious space inside.

(Maybe, one day,
the whole world can 
drop in.)

Adversity builds character.
So they say.
But does it, 
really?

I’ve seen character harden
into habit that 
becomes impenetrable-
for life.

Perhaps though, with intention,
adversity can actually deconstruct
character instead.

Like the sharp edges
of sea glass smoothed
out after decades in an
unsympathetic ocean,
all of our unhelpful thoughts
patterns and behaviors 
that once kept us in 
an invisible prison,
might disintegrate into
mere specks of sand;
leaving a majestic internal canyon 
just large enough to 
feel the whole entire thing-
with a smile.

My dear Mother, 
please empty me out entirely.
I want to taste the freedom & joy
of a free-wheeling generosity and compassion
that comes when I no longer
need to maintain
that compelling story of Me.

Please, 
let Me go.

Let me fly.

-Me

Poetry 163: Being Human

Being Human

Do you know what it’s like

to be unable to breathe

when that which is most

precious is lost forever?

Yes, I do.

Do you know what it’s like

to wake up in the middle

of the night completely

terrified that everything is

just about to fall to pieces?

Oh yes.

Do you know what it’s like

to mourn something that

has never actually been,

and is unlikely to ever be?

Unfortunately, yes.

How about what it’s like

to just want one, brief moment

of sanity to just catch your breath

before the next move?

Absolutely.

So then, let me ask you something.

Okay.

Who are you?

Human.

-Me