This Morning For Me!
Jane listens to my morning flow and calls it Life-Lines. I am struggling to be here in some way of
keeping my core, the essential part of my being alive, even as I feel myself
internally probed by something injected from outside. Last night, I felt I was invaded by aliens,
as I felt the chemo on its search through my body. It is like a flashlight swimming through me
looking for what is dividing rapidly, and leaving the slow sleepers to rest.
throat is sore this morning, and my feet, but I am feeling pretty well besides
that, and yet, as Jane and I talk, I realize I am not looking for meaning in my
writing this morning. My mind is
unclear, like this day I see out my window.
I am recording what I see and feel, in some way of anchoring. I am here.
I am me, some me, and sometimes, the chemicals cause my legs to shake,
and I sit with that. I watch that, and
perhaps, that is why today, I look out my window at the trees, and I watch
them, just watch. I am not looking for
meaning today, or judgment, or even, discernment. I just am today. I am a duck.
I am a tree, dripping with rain, that has now paused, and yet, is still
held in the folds of the leaves. I am
the sun on the other side of these dense layers of fog and clouds. I am me.
I am you. We are one!
offer my snippets, my morning as it drops, like rain, from an inner, outer
sky.
me today, there is no meaning, only being, in a life.
Diving in
like a duck
tail up
to nuzzle below
what swizzles unseen
until grabbed in a beak,
shaken,
and taken,
like coffee,
with cream
sitting blank
mind silent
allowing a hand to come
and write
what bites nuance to rise
and fly buttons like kites
for the sky
to open
and star with light -
insight
can I welcome the hand
that comes like an animal in the night
to write on my mind
like porcupines,
each spine held at an angle
to catch the light,
and bring it to the page,
an offer, sometimes,
of sight -
the tree outside
is silent today
each branch hanging out
like a long gloved hand
dripping with diamonds,
water still shakes
and the breath awakes
in the round pause
of the pond
as it dreams
of lakes
everything reaching today
in the pause of the fall
of rain -
leaves and needles like fingers
waiting with bows
to fiddle
the sounds of the clouds
as they open
like grain
to sun-filtered light -
where to stop with a poem -
with a look, with the eating
of a lime -
where to pause the breath
and let it rest
that moment
clicking
time
where are the roses
held in my care
the flowers in cheeks
the organs in there,
felt,
heart, liver, spleen,
unseen -
Perhaps I don’t want meaning, only understanding at the most basic
levels, forces molding cells, tissues, organs, me, you, an internet connecting
us all, as one.
I Want to Know!
I want to see inside,
to probe like chemo,
to be that light,
to discern -
can I activate fingers
to stir inside, like cilia
and see
and feel
the deepness
I hide -
I want to know Everything -
I want inside, out
where I can see,
what is happening,
what churns and flows and
ripples in me.
I want to peel the earth
like an orange
and eat the seeds -
I want to understand the operation,
the motivation, the
surge, the tides that reap -
I know it is an old story,
formation and creation,
the watchmaker and the watch -
what comes first,
the chicken or the egg -
I am wanting to go where only letting go can take me,
letting go - disintegration -
and I’m not ready -
I am a probe, probed.
I am here,
not ready to let go,
and so I hold my insides in,
contained in a shell,
like an M & M.
I am all the colors of the rainbow,
until I melt,
and that day is not yet here,
and yet, I want to know what ticks inside,
what motivates this being that seems to be, a me.
"Let go and feel the air blow through your holes," I am told.
I am the whale.
I sing the sea.