Interpreting the Long View

Poem as Message

As a practice in the act of receiving as a writer and as a human being, I allow a poem to come through the top of my head and out of my pen every morning. They originate outside of my body, perhaps in a greater consciousness, my own or another, or perhaps the one that we all share, as some folks believe. A friend recently asked me if I return to them to consider their meaning and what they are offering. I realized with that question that the magic of it had become somewhat remote after all these months. The poem is just another part of my day, like coffee, like putting on socks. So, I started taking more time each morning to go back and read with curiosity, knowing that wherever these beauties come from is a place of wisdom and humor. It’s the long view, a vantage point I am not fully capable of in this body. And so, an offering to you. Interpret this for yourself. My intuition tells me that they belong to Us. Periodically I will share and, if you wish, take some time to consider them. Interpret the images and metaphor through your experience and leave a comment. What comes through may be a message for someone else and my work is to gather it up and pass it along.

In the riddle of time,

the narrow voices play with a secret crimson longing

Sing, sing the night air, the vast poison is gone,

a killer trained the root, the fruit ate the predator

A nasty scheme,

a wilted rule of law and vice waits in the corner now

In drought its mouth crooks, a dry spring,

a dark crack against the dust

Now a dampening dew, a counter balance

new fruit frozen in time, the lavish work of spring

All the air whistles a call for home to writers in ink

& stone, in bond and bleeding muscle of heart

Quote the ancient story at the center of tree

It is a rapid beating drum that carries the lesson of life

back to the speaker

When the story is told, dissolve the entry point

Pick up the next tool to divide the night