Medicine

Desperately alone
depression galls,
in isolation
imagination fails
with nothing but surface
below the wave cast sea,
behind the dark night sky
only emptiness and void.
Such is the path
carved by mind
into the soft grain of earth,
as if against it all
we might become something.
Like an errant child
we may stumble back
into the arms of life
or withhold what waits within
like the giants of old
with their bitter treasure.
To search for who we love
a numbing journey
through a vast museum
of endless paintings
for the one face,
the one image
we might recognize.
To say I found you
too remarkable to utter,
yet it is true.
Dare to come undone,
allow the mystery
all her remarkable power.
Below the sea
the ocean teems with life
and in the dirt at our feet
the seeds of what will flower.
You are not alone
though the wings that support
often hidden and obscure.
The deceivers are many,
miseries manifold,
yet take courage and reach out.
In the hard bark of the ancient tree
is the medicine that will heal.

 

 

Medicine

 


To Lead and Guide Us

No use hiding once the sun’s come out
though we’re quite a way from summer;
we’ll crawl from our winter cave,
the inner life slowly awakening,
the dream time pulling us back
but losing gravity as the bright star calls.
With melodies of the night sky
and the knowledge of darkness
we must let go of the secure
for daylight and its flux.
We think we know
but are only passing creatures,
microbes in the enterprise of life
who dare beyond the boundaries
and learn through time
the limits of our understanding.
Crows look down
from the wires we’ve stretched
speaking the language
spoken long before our arrival,
continuing into the mist
beyond our dissolution.
The spark though, the genius
of our grand progression
and the wings we yet imagine
will lead and guide us,
forgiving all,
healing what we are
and may have never been
as we stir from the deep sleep
and learn to walk once more
into the startling green
of our own becoming.

 

 

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Free from Hope

Winter clouds brood close
soaking the land,
stripping the last
of summer’s weight
as the earth breathes
free from the hope of flowers,
settling into root and descent
under the cold rain
while we dream of bear
and find our way
with darkness guiding.

 

 

Free From Hope