Sunday, 27 April 2014

Home

Standing at the edge of the world
Lulled by the massive movement sprawled before me.
My thoughts empty
and I am at a loss

Every insecurity falls at my feet
and washes away
I am so small
I am home

Does not everyone feel so blessed here?
or is it my wholeness
for once
that gifts me alone in this moment?

How did I get so far from this place?
When did I find my way back?
Irrelevant.
I am home

The breaks pound my past sorrow
like ancestral applause.
Waves embrace my feet
Shore holds me firm
I am home

I thought I was missing a piece
I came here to see
But alas I was the missing piece
and now
I am home

I am home in every way
when I close my eyes every day
Reality is this dream I live
as time rolls away
...home

If I don't really make it there
I can rest now for my spirit knows
where to go
when my heart begins to slow
go home







What says?

What says the quiet man who does not see well. Who has indeed seen everything up to this moment and only smiles slyly at new developments. What says the woman who holds no more doubt in her heart. Who has no answers but no more questions. Seeking the moment of pure unattainable contentment. For accomplishment only leads to more possibility and contentment is stagnate and stifling.

What says the dog who loves you unconditionally. His soul more genuine than any human spirit. He is witness to a window on your life. He is everything in his bones cradled in loose fur. You are undeserving of his love but you are grateful. 

Endless pursuits to what end? Is a purposeless life less valuable. Is my purpose so small that you can not see it? You are so beautiful. Flawed irrevocably and unapologetic. Maybe we are all blind when it comes to introspection. From here everyone of you looks untouchable. Every distasteful internal dialogue you have shared with yourself about yourself is why we love you. It is a conversation we have shared separately for a thousand years. Like a curse. Imprisoned in our own judgement of self. 

What says the child fresh from snow, self soaked and red cheeked? Snowflakes as big as your hand are absorbed like magic. Imprinting memories of silver and light and wonder. What says the child in wonder of our stupid ways. Trying to make sense of the senseless. restless. helpless. sadness. Don't say sorry. Don't ignore the damage either. Build them a swing and let them ride it in the rain with nothing but their boots on. 

What says the universe of our world? Vast and quiet peering into our reckless spaces. Trying to make sense of our nature. We dance like ants, atop ants. The quiet man can hear the space beyond. The woman's silence is marred with fear. The dog knows already what we are in for and the child, well the child never had a chance. We screwed up but that is how we were designed. 
We did it just perfectly.