I stand before the corkscrew willow,

arms and eyes open, waiting

for directions, but all he does is point

gnarled fingers every direction,

mocking my turmoil, showing me

the one truth I already know:

there are too many possibilities.

“It is neither spring nor summer: it is Always.”  –Theodore Roethke

 

It is Always, and it always will be,

perpetual now, infinite here,

today and forever one and the same,

with nothing separating

life from Life.

“Out beyond all ideas of wrong doing and right doing, there is a field.  I’ll meet you there.”    –Rumi

But getting to that field,

getting there, is so tricky

with landmines threatening

every step, nooses hanging

from every tree, and voices

pleading you to come back,

trying to convince you that you

don’t know where you’re going,

that you’re wrong—or maybe

even right—but you have to keep

going, have to learn how

to float, to dodge, to say,

“Thanks for your concern,

But I’m going anyway.”

With grace, wisdom, patience

even when they are stubborn and

unyielding, they surrender

so patiently, becoming

something we will never be.

 

With loyalty, understanding, and

the ability to hear pain, smell truth,

they sense things we will never know

or read because we are too foolish,

too stuck in our heads.

 

In their eyes, worlds—stars, oceans, skies,

all swirled together–inviting you to

enter so you can find everything

you need to do, to know, to feel,

before you can be whole.

 

Feel their strength, so contained and deliberate,

but so wild and raw, compelling you to

close your eyes and watch them run,

flinging bolts of life every direction,

exchanging ecstatic cries with earth and sky.

 

Standing next to them, absorbing their presence

is a gift, an opportunity to live and

change, right there in that moment,

with pieces of it, electric ribbons, spinning

in and around you, for days.

Sunshine fills the spaces

created by asking

all those questions,

satisfying in a way

that answers never will.