At Yellow Crane Tower
This shining citadel, a tall tidal bird
in sunset- my friend is leaving, leaving
at the precise cusp of spring, mist
in a far city of flowers, city of willows,
toward which he tacks, a lone sail
disappearing to the very edge of space,
now only this blue-lit screen where water
meets sky, the endless river flowing on.
Wizened ground, frost-lit from below…
No- my bed’s unfolding drift of sheets
where at the edge moonlight brightens,
it appears, this moment, otherworldly.
Up there, through glass, that perfect gaze,
like a blind man who sees without sight.
Alone, I lower my head to my pillow,
glaze through my lids. Where is my home?
seize an opening in the cave of regret…..it is time to own our insights and our edges…to lighten a sadness is a sacred act, one of mystery like clear water in green fields…our natural hollowed-out places are ready for filling….fold in gently….
When life is ‘enough,’ we don’t need any more. What a good feeling it is when our days are enough. The world is enough. We don’t often let that feeling in. It’s a foreign feeling because we tend to live our lives feeling that they are not enough. But we can change that perception. Saying that this is life and I don’t need anything more is a wonderful statement of grace and power. If we don’t need any more, if we don’t need to control everything, we can let life unfold. We have so much power inside but so little knowledge of how to use it. Real power comes from knowing who we are and our place in the world. We must remember that our power comes from knowing that everything is all right and everyone is unfolding exactly as they are supposed to…..Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
A Poet’s Advice
A real human is somebody who feels and who expresses his or her feelings. This may sound easy. It isn’t.
A lot of people think or believe or know what they feel—but that’s thinking or believing or knowing: not feeling. And being real is feeling—not just knowing or believing or thinking.
Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but it’s very difficult to learn to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody – but – yourself.
To be nobody – but -yourself– in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else–means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.
As for communicating nobody-but-yourself to others, that means working just a little harder than anybody who isn’t real can possibly imagine. Why?
Because nothing is quite as easy as just being just like somebody else. We all of us do exactly this nearly all of the time–and whenever we do it, we are not real.
If, at the end of your first ten or fifteen years of fighting and working and feeling, you find you’ve loved just once with a nobody-but-yourself heart, you’ll be very lucky indeed.
And so my advice to all people who wish to become real is: do something easy, like dreaming of freedom–unless you’re ready to commit yourself to feel and work and fight till you die.