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The wind came over last night
and hugged me so hard
my cabin lifted off its foundations
and whirled me west, over moonlit waves,
to the Dream Kin who call me out of time
into the All-at-Once. Eucalyptus people
took off their clothes and danced with delight.
and hugged me so hard
my cabin lifted off its foundations
and whirled me west, over moonlit waves,
to the Dream Kin who call me out of time
into the All-at-Once. Eucalyptus people
took off their clothes and danced with delight.
Nature is very personal here.
Wind and wave, moon and stars,
the feigned death of a monarch butterfly
lying still as a fallen leaf, waiting for the sun
to warm it back to drink milkweed,
and the owl who called me three times
Wind and wave, moon and stars,
the feigned death of a monarch butterfly
lying still as a fallen leaf, waiting for the sun
to warm it back to drink milkweed,
and the owl who called me three times
and then, not content with my quality of attention,
thirty times more, around midnight
when the glow at my skylight was exactly the blue
of the launch chamber of an Egyptian star traveler.
thirty times more, around midnight
when the glow at my skylight was exactly the blue
of the launch chamber of an Egyptian star traveler.
So many night calls, that when I go for my mail
I remember a box I had long forgotten.
Not the letter drop at my door, or a metal drawer
at the post office, but an old-time box on a post
at the edge of the Street of Dreams.
How could I have forgotten this?
I open it, and find it stuffed with unread night mail
including letters and cards and legal documents
and business papers from a woman I loved and lost
who left the world of pain, shockingly, before me.
I know I will need to travel to her return address
from the place where fresh water joins the salt
when the moon lays a path across the waves.
I remember a box I had long forgotten.
Not the letter drop at my door, or a metal drawer
at the post office, but an old-time box on a post
at the edge of the Street of Dreams.
How could I have forgotten this?
I open it, and find it stuffed with unread night mail
including letters and cards and legal documents
and business papers from a woman I loved and lost
who left the world of pain, shockingly, before me.
I know I will need to travel to her return address
from the place where fresh water joins the salt
when the moon lays a path across the waves.
- Big Sur, February 11, 2011
10 comments:
This is fascinating. Posting it poetically like that adds energy and exposes meanings that otherwise might remain hidden. "...when the moon lays a path across the waves." An expression that is both beautiful and meaningful. More! More!
Thank you for posting it.
~~ Don
Thank you for the beauty and richness of this poem. This post evoked fond memories of moonlit waves, monarch butterflies, the color blue and traveling among the stars.
I was a bit stunned by the end of this poem. As recently as last night, I was dancing in my dreams. This dance came at the invitation of Death, who arrived, well-mannered and dressed in a tuxedo. He took me dancing to show me the treasures of life and to remind me of thin veils for visiting loved ones on the other side.
Yesterday a woman I've known for a long time died, today I received word from a man who is approaching death. This afternoon I've heard from a woman on behalf of a loved one who is asking for support since he is close to leaving this world.
I'll be checking my night mail and making some visits myself.
Beautiful poem Robert, filled with image and feeling. I can imagine the Eucalyptus people :-)
From deep compassion I wish you vitality and peace in your journey's ahead. May the road always rise to greet you in the dreaming. May you spend many lovely walks along a beach.
Hugs
Patty
PS I see my son Aaron was logged onto my computer. I'm sure he would have said something more comical then me. Like some joke about naked dancing Eucalyptus people, but then he's never been along the California Coast where Eucalyptus mixes with the mist.
Patty
...but an old-time box on a post
at the edge of the Street of Dreams.
A different visit from Old John o' Dreams...
Exquisitely beautiful!
Thanks for a wonderful 5 days of introducing me to your dream teachings, healing and enrichment. Thanks also for posting this poem which recollects the images and events we shared in this setting. Happy Valentines Day Robert.
Samuel - It was a joy and a blessing to share such deep experiences with you over our five days at Esalen.
Carol - Thanks so much for sharing your thrilling encounter with Death in a black tie, and for your care of souls on both sides of the swing door.
Don - We both know there are dreams that are eager to stream into poetic speech.
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