Beginning Steps of Standing Strong

I.                   The Act of Telling

That neglected, abused girl

has grown into a woman, a virile

bodhisattva of the earth, now

she’s something more

a kin to the need

in conversation to digress, while keeping

record of metaphors.  White paper covered in

lines and lines of scribbled smudges

from some sweet ditty, a shushed

scream, all that sobbing

acts like the crutch keeping her

standing.  Even if she’s limping,

bloodied and beaten, she always

stands.  Sleeping through all this is not

an option.  Memory behaves as tutor

developing the disciple of man’s

languages, most of them dead

and mostly forgotten.  She knows the rain,

leaning against every said meaning, looking

for the unasked questions in the pursuit of  roots.  Thus

illustrates the need for questions in a time that is

demanding of the mindless.  Utterance is

what is

necessary.        Voice is a constant                  organic thing.

II.                The Act of Showing

Mindfulness is knowing everything is

as it should.  The tree with roots penetrating

deep into the ground can usually withstand

months of brutal Erie winters to return year

after year as the promise of maple

collected in buckets during

the season of snow and mud. Until

lightning strikes, then becomes fruit for the insects

of the dirt to make it a tree again.  The tree then returns

for a children’s book

to be written about how giving

a tree can be.  She watches as tree

covered mountain tops are all blown

to bits in the search for energy, consequently

forced to wonder why we work so hard

at destroying the gifts we are given.

III.             The Act of Doing

Because there is a reason

for everything, you’ve been put

here.  Secrets were never

your friend, remember the wiseman

told you, You are only

as sick as your secrets.  So

let them go.  Touch each one, even

the ones hiding in an achy and itchy

wound touch them lovingly because they are

what guides you through toil

to the state of being here. Let them hover

in the air giving life to your blood.

IV.             The Action of Contentment

This county off Misery Bay has made

many hermits of this land.  My tree is dying, so I

see, invaded by the Asian

Longhorn death bringing beetle,

murdering a little more of my history, my home-

town off Misery Bay.  We will lose our fifth

season: the season of snow and mud.  It’s a secret

time of year that only maple trees share among the Great

Lake.  From a book I learned the wisdom of a Hermit

bee keeper, who had his story told once in an Erie news-

paper.  So, it’s time to celebrate

the life it did have

by dancing naked in the coming

night bereft of light,

splashing in the black Lake.

Its waves dance.  Here is being

among the erosion

of the shores.  The sun singing

its nightly swan song to the night of cloudless sky.

The sound of bats overhead.  We clasp hands.

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4 Comments

  1. An interesting verse made me think of the Upanishads I’m currently studying.

  2. Love it. You have nice examples in regards to strength.

  3. Reblogged this on disdainfulbeauty.


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