Challenged by the old fight,
I hear another voice
miles from the road,
along the basalt trail
to a creek that breaks
from her open mouth
with the grief of music.
The knowledge of moss
and the part of me
broken like a branch,
turned into dirt,
falling with water
in a long drop
over smooth stone,
into a canyon
with the deeper river
waiting.
Don….sensuously gorgeous! It speaks to the activist in me with a deep voice…..
moved, I drop with each word, down
down to that fallen place I forgot I know
into waters of loss, pure loss
Ah, that deeper river! A lovely expression, Don, concise and truthful…..Ted
Immersed again and again, the deeper river is ever present and willing to catch me as I let go………..beautiful!
Rising from the depths of this sacred river, I walked into Child Protection Services this morning in Santa Fe, six years after retirement. I found myself eschewing statements of “Never again” as I volunteered to teach Mandated Reporting. No “old fight” here, I am called to fill the gaps of ignorance and violence with Love. They may think they are receiving information. I know better and am grateful for that knowing.
“…Ole man river, that ole man river,
He must know somethin’
He don say nuthin’
That ole man river
He just keeps rollin’ along…..
This old Negro folk tune arises from my childhood memory in response. Thank you, Don.
Thanks Don, it is so important to be reminded of that deeper river- I sometimes find myself caught up in the illusion of the moment. As I slip out of the stream to the side and watch I see it as what it is – and I can go back in knowing I am heading towards the deeper river behind and in front of it all. Blessings, Larry