I look at those dead leaves
Scattered under the desert sun,
Then turn my back on the chaos,
and it tries to strike me as I run.
I look at a stained mirror,
standing right in front of my graying soul,
and catch sight of my wild child…
Whom I gaze at for a while
Fighting against laws,
he had never been aware of…
Outsider by the shoreline,
laughing at the inexorability of time
of what the world has in store.
Reaching out my love and places I’ve been before.
Bearing everyone’s wish.
sheltered in a heart on fire
A sanctuary for the world’s desire.
Easy and free, caressing the wind
with the palms of his tiny hands.
sculptured to change anything
ever want to just bathe in the big beautiful momentous light of the heart?….only here do we realize the evolution from suffering to light, only here is it appreciated and held dearly…..this paradox lifts us out of inertia, once again….
The brave ones are beautiful. The way they walk like they do, with open hands and hearts into places promising unknown conditions. A wide, dark field of maybe this will be okay or maybe not so much. What if the sun never comes? I’d like them to show me how they do it. I’d like to know how to let go of those we once loved that live in places not so hidden, and still show up in dreams a bit too vivid. The ones we aren’t so ready to let go of yet… but should. Show me how to be brave. How to be made of still and steady ground instead of waves, or rocks instead of fire, and flickering, dying flame. How to walk in the storm and not be swallowed by wind, or how to breathe when your throat feels as though it’s rapidly tightening, and closing in. Help me unlearn what I’ve learned, unravel what shouldn’t stay tied, and walk away, even when it will never feel comfortable, gentle, or right. Teach me how to have faith. How to talk to someone who may not make it, how to stand, strong as gravity itself, beside a bed whispering the bravest of goodbyes. How to hold still while sweeping back our weeping cries; how to assure them it’s okay to leave us; how to tell of a place that awaits pain-free and bright; that their person will be standing there, on the other side. Even when you don’t feel brave, I know you are. Even when I don’t feel brave, I know I am. Show me, teach me, and relearn alongside me. And I’ll do the same for you. Together, we’ll falter and fall and begin yet again, and remember what it means to be brave…….Victoria Erickson
The secret of the mountain is that the mountains simply exist, as I do myself: the mountains exist simply, which I do not. The mountains have no “meaning,” they are meaning; the mountains are. The sun is round. I ring with life, and the mountains ring, and when I can hear it, there is a ringing that we share. I understand all this, not in my mind but in my heart, knowing how meaningless it is to try to capture what cannot be expressed, knowing that mere words will remain when I read it all again, another day…..Peter Matthiessen