Stirrup of the Sun & Moon. Frank LaRue Owen
Читать онлайн книгу.and caused your eyes to open briefly.
Even in those first fierce moments
some part of you
was already wise to the world;
it wanted to throw off the harsh, unnatural light,
to join in with the wild and unconstrained.
Buried deep
behind your tightly-bound cage of ribs,
that ancient yearning to be received by the untamed
is still pulsing within you
despite all of your other disappointments.
The keeper of the old library of souls knows
until your need
for galloping through the terrain
of your wild-belonging is met
all manner of trouble
and destruction can occur.
The conversation can be put off for a while
but at some point
if you are to remain alive to yourself
you’ll have to swing yourself up
onto the windhorse of your original yearning
and join back up with the part of you
that already began the journey without you.
__
To the tune of “Heart’s Core” / Fever Dreams II / Steve Roach, Byron Metcalf, Jennifer Grais
Tendril
—in honor of Mary Oliver (1935-2019) —
You reminded us
how to humble ourselves
before the Great Mother again…
to lay down with the deer
in the rain-dampened pines.
You taught us
how to have our weariness lifted by soft renewals
and the caked blood-red dust
washed clean from our eyes
through a flowing green devotion.
Through simple ways
human ways
natural ways,
you gave us a mischievous glance
a knowing nod
and permission
to love what we love
to ache for what we ache
to remain steadfast in our wonderment.
Like the haunting call of a mourning dove
a rutting buck deep in the wood
curious tiny fingers
gliding astonished over rainbow scales
a handful of dark soil
reminding something ancient within us
of the promise of seeds and seasons
we were all made
all the better by you.
In our sudden and terrible orphanhood today,
may we tend the fragile tendril placed so softly in our keeping.
__
To the tune of “The Sentience of Touch” / Tactile Ground / Robert Rich
Layers and Receiving
Full Moon, August 2017
Let us speak of it clearly.
A deeper part of you knows
you were sent here with an inborn understanding —
a thorough fluency in a vision of arriving-beyond-striving.
Not unlike dreaming,
subtle memories of effortless belonging
enveloped you in peaceful-abiding
as natural and inseparable from you
as your own breathing.
With a slow cascade of
descending
arriving
rooting
unfurling
rising
expanding
embodying —
you bloomed.
Woven into the silent tapestry of you
was a closely-held assumption
there would be a soft place to land —
a trait of our forgetfulness
of where we were all going.
Then, it happened.
Your second day
your second year
perhaps your second decade in,
you came to a harsh realization:
Not every corner of the fabricated Overlay World
is rooted in the softness you needed.
Not every place, or person,
flows with the Heart-Mind-River
of evolving, becoming, blooming, Being.
This tumultuous ‘coming to your senses’
had all the same color, taste, and dark texture of betrayal.
As you gazed out at the Samsaric World,
you may have whispered to yourself:
‘This is not what I signed up for.’
You may even have said:
This is not the place for me.
And,
you would be right,
ultimately.
This is why it is so important
to finally let go
and turn the page;
to realize
your original vision was true
but on the other side of it
was a list of instructions.
Among them:
Found within that which you long to steep is the very thing you must eventually create.
__
To the tune of “3,000 Years” by French-Malagaasy ethno-ambient musician Ujjaya
Here’s the Catch
…a love poem…of sorts
Part One: The Longing
Are you fishing in your sleep again?
Oh come on. We all know how it starts.
A deep pang inside.
A longing.
That old familiar question rattling around inside your mind:
“Where is the one for me?”
So, you start imagining a soul.
What