The poem and the poet

I reach deep into your core

Reminding you of things past,

Long forgotten

Or even

Buried

I reverberate

What once was

What once lived deep within

And all of those left behind

Whether intentional or not.

I reach out to those

Long past places of your experiences

Finding those lost regions

Of silent and invisible feelings.

I travel far into your depths

Reaching almost to your core

To bring forward

Your neglected and distant

Longing.

I am the poem.

Written by the poet.

Who knows and understands

The deep and distant

geography of your soul.

Fragility and pathos

Darkness rolls down from the slopes,

Slowly seeping into the valleys

Robbing the day

Away from its stronghold.

As the night ebbs in

It seeps into corners and crevices

Taking away identity of all that is known.

The light retreats as if after a battle

Losing its strength to the mighty

Darkness that marches towards it

Willingly throwing down its arms

In defeat.

Vulnerability sweeps the land,

Strange sounds not heard during day

Begin to emanate in the darkness.

Wild animals hidden from the light

Emerge into its deep, lush cover.

The mountains lay hidden in black

With all of their giant stature gone

Their power and might lost in submission

To the blackness that holds them

Captive in its mystery.

Fragility and pathos

Encircle the light as darkness

Overtakes it.

A struggle of presence over anonymity

Lies in the darkness that seeps

Down through the mighty slopes

Of infinite stature.

This poem was inspired by this evenings sunset as I️ contemplated the darkness edging into the light in Franconia, NH. Where I️ stay is only a stone’s throw away from Robert Frosts homestead. I️ have been coming to this inn for close to fifteen years, sometimes by myself, sometimes not. I️ first came when I️ was still married to Dennis. Sometimes multiple times of year. I️ have become like family here and I️ was saddened to hear of the innkeeper’s husband diagnosis of cancer. I️ felt that pain as the darkness overtook me.

I must walk forward.

I must walk forever forward

into the darkness, the mist,

the unknown.

If I try to stay where I am.

The sunlight will dim,

and the clouds will obscure my vision.

Eventually, night time always falls.

 

I must walk forever forward

into the darkness, the mist,

the unknown.

The promise of possibility is only ahead.

Not behind.

What I know behind is easier than what I know ahead.

But transformation only happens in the deep darkness.

 

I must walk forward

into the darkness, the mist,

the unknown.

I know not why

but yet I must.

Eventually, night time always falls.

Eventually, dawn inevitably breaks.

 

I must walk forward.

 

 

 

 

The sacred touch.

The sacred touch.

You reach to touch.

Nothing intellectual.

All felt.

You try to coax me out of my world.

To come into being in yours.

Your touch says I belong.

I either let you in or keep you out.

I either pretend I didn’t feel the touch

or I envelop the touch into my world.

The sacred touch.

Makes me alive and awakened.

Healed and redeemed.

When nothing else will do.

The sacred touch speaks to me.

When your words cannot.

I either allow or deny.

The sacred touch

provides me shelter in my storm.

Or surrounds me with joy and elation.

In the sacred touch.

You become known and revealed,

mystery and possibility.

The distance evaporates.

My soul belongs

in the Holiness of your simple sacred touch.

 

 

One purpose, one life.

One purpose, one life.

Divinity seeks belonging.

A fresh petal with morning dew

awaits the sunlight

as I await

the waking of my own divinity

to what is hidden below.

Freedom.

As the hawk circles above

riding on the winds unseen

I await

only what divinity allows.

No longer seeking from outside

but only within.

I rest in the palm of your hand.

Cradle my warmth inside.

I await deep slumber.

As the bears hibernate in the winter

and the swallows migrate south.

You set me free.

In your love

Divinity appeared

as I peered within.

Like a mirror reflecting back.

Echoing in my soul.

I am home.

One purpose, one life.

Take my hand.

 

Take my hand.

Let me lead you away from danger.

Away from suffering.

Away from death.

Take my hand.

Let me lead you

into the light

where there is love.

Take my hand.

Wrap it within yours.

They taunt and they protest.

They laugh and they ridicule.

Look away.

Take my hand.

Let me lead you

to your fate.

Don’t cast me out.

Don’t cast me out.

Why do I feel you must send me on my way?

I am an empty vessel

ready for all that you want to teach.

I absorb your every word, your every thought.

My eyes watch yours, my ears listen intently,

but yet, you hasten over me like I am unimportant.

Why do you cast me aside?

Don’t write me off as useless

like wood tossed aside after the building of the house.

My weakness can help others.

I am not useless.

Don’t reject me.

Don’t cast me out.

Don’t send me on my way.