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Saturday, December 29, 2012

a love confession p 2

Little by little, and in volcanic eruptions
we drifted apart like continental plates.
Said we loved the sea so we let it come between us.
We followed the flow of the tide with the full moon
tattooed in blood and water on our foreheads.
Agoraphobics, we couldn't fill spaces between us with enough stars
so we blamed proximity, too far, too near, too distant, too dear.
Accused the sun and lunar cycles for the failing of our sight
pointed fingers at the winds and they carried away our excuses
graciously left us in silence to listen to the beating of the heart's sea.

Can you hear them? The waves pleading, raging, roaring, seeping
they spend their lives through storm and salt, ice and vapor
man made pollutants and all manners of filter feeders
looking for something they have never seen
And one day, they find it, crashing upon it to kiss its' shores
before faithfully embarking on the return journey
each hoping they may be worthy of reunion with the ocean's core.

confessions p 24


No.
Not the heavens nor the hells.
No.
Not the words of scripture.
Nor the ideology of man.

I can not explain the endlessness
that taught my knees the speech of the ground.
I know just as these words are only shadows of tears
So too is this reality a mere shadow of the next.

before bed

Now that the day has ended
what do I have to say ?
Have I done all I could?
Have I gotten better at something?
Have I overcome a fear?
Have I tried a different approach to the same problem?
Have I been truthful to myself?
Have I reached out to a friend?
Did I really listen when spoken to?
Did I strive for excellence in some way?
Did I test my boundaries? challenge my perceptions?
Did I train my body, mind or soul?
Did I commit? Did I make a vow or renew an old oath?
Did I keep the word?
Did I pay respects to my parents? the elders or ancestors?
Did I maintain the sacred bond of friendship?
Did I chip away at the mountain on my back?

Heroes

Remember your heroes
Remember their journeys
The upward slopes they navigated to find themselves
Their rites of passage, how they yearned
Remember their blood, their hearts ablaze
As they burned, for something which even they couldn't yet see.
Remember your heroes
Their memory is sacred
They have been pre-sent to you
As roadsigns, maps through which you may discover yourself.

Remembrance is divine.
It is a spiritual goldmine
It is braille for the blind
It is the cover of darkness for Love's fugitives
Remembrance is divine
It is your holy book that is yet to be writ
It is the light of the sun, it gives and gives.
It is the sanctum of the spirit in decline
It is the elixir of madmen and mystics, the lover's wine
It is all of your heroes cheering at the finish line
It is a friend's encouraging hand
Remembrance is divine
It is a garden in a wasteland.
It is the relief of speech in a room full of mimes
It is a captain in a ship left unmanned
It is the price of the soul's truth paid back in kind
It is a life raft for the sea stranded
And a candle in a prison cell for the damned
It is you and me as one if you would be so inclined
Dear wonder of the stars, leave your fears behind
And remember your heroes
Because remembrance, is, divine.