Something or someone calls
not from the dream time
but from below the sea
where the sleek seal dives
or in the belly of the rock
that gives the shape to water
or the land itself wanting to rise
through dry waving grass
and release on the wind.
Perhaps it’s just me
struggling each day
to find my birth,
coming into the world
again and again
with a soul, a spirit
and such a frail body.
Weak before the forces
of time and knowledge,
broken like a twig
in the hands of the earth
yet returning each morning
to the altar of the sacred.
Singing with the only voice I have
the words of belonging
sung to the sea
then passing like a cloud.
Having walked along the beach, in rocky shores, even a big rock with an archway for the seals. Your poem brings me back to such pleasures.
Australians say: “Good on-yah”
A poetic reminder that all forms are Gaia-made of living substance and have voice for the Halleluiah blessing for every kind of birth, in every moment. What a blessing is being consciously conscious and ever mindful.
Thank you, Don.
Yes… Coming into the world again & again! Each moment incarnate & in expression… Don, this is poignant… Our birth in the earth glorifies the earth at many levels, setting up a resonance that goes beyond our frail frames… Thank you for your eloquence, your patience, your honesty…
such a timely, profound message. Thank you!
Beautiful Don. Captures the frail and transient aspects of a human , but we do keep on keeping on
It’s easy to feel an intimacy with each of these words Don. Thank you!
nice one
Beautiful Don.
This one really speaks to me. Another year older this Friday and having had back surgery 11 days ago, understand “broken like a twig…”
Healing and grateful…
Thank you Don!
I was just reflecting on the Bodhisattva Vow before reading this poem–a perfect resonance of the two. You always move me. Thanks.
Excellent