Friday, December 12, 2014

not really a poem but written like one

They keep advising, 
those ancient ones,
come to the present moment,
come to the present moment. 

I'm just realizing, 
within me,
perhaps within others,
perhaps within you,
I hope not,
the strength of some compelling urgency,
almost cellular it seems, 
to get away from the present,
as if getting away from an unseen growling, menacing
mastiff in the dark. 
So easy to reach for the remote. 

There is only one place anyone can be hurt,
one temporal place,
in the present moment.
It is the place of intimacy
And therefore the place where pain can be inflicted and taken on.
This is where the deep hurts lie,
speaking only as at best partial and worn out truths
from present moments echoing forward from the past.
What a scary place.
A lifetime of avoiding. 

This is why we must return,
now and now and now,
now again and again,
return again and again,
to the present moment,
with all its intimacy,
learning to trust again,
as if moving forward to re-enter Eden yet really for the first time,
lightly and with light,
the soft green light of good intention,
the soft golden light of consciousness,
the soft white light of awareness.
Green and golden and white.
Because this is also the place of true knowing,
of true healing. 
Come to this intimatemoment place.
No matter what the old fears say,
turn your ear instead to the ancient ones.