And once again the invitation
to see beyond the self—
the way water knows itself
not only as river and lake
but also as fern, as cloud, as cat.
Forgive me for believing
I end with this skin, these ideas,
these imaginings. Sometimes
I forget to choose vastness,
forget to know the self
as cliff, as maitake, as crumb.
How is it I so often miss the invitation?
How is it I overlook that I
am lemon, asteroid, wren?
Oy vey. And so we go. How _is_ it we so often miss the invitation(/the obvious/the inevitable/the real reality)? Quoting Ms Joi Sharp, “Can you say, Yes, to the world as it is?” (“Forgive [us] for believing …these imaginings.”)
Fern. Cloud. Cat. Cliff. Maitake(!) Crumb. Lemon. Asteroid. Wren. I love these “true names” (as Thay—Thich Nhat Hahn—says in his poem) you’ve chosen.
Please keep play-working with this poem. I’m sensing a tsunami ready to flood from just under its surface.
thank you dear man … xo!