View of crowd covering ears
Can we hold each other a little more tenderly? Can we sweep our hearts of worldly illusions and rest in each other’s sorrow without fear of being unduly touched? And what if we are? What if the wound of another, of the world, of our brother compels us to feel? Is that not an awakening to life? The path of healing requires we disarm our hearts from the thickened walls of desensitization. The Plan of love needs witnesses, listeners, deeply feeling and compassionate beings to See through our fearful dream with truth and dignity.
Let us fulfill the Purpose Love has given us now, especially now. Perhaps this poem speaks to how.
Is there something you want to say to me?
The coyote in my belly howls every time I see you,
as if you were a walking moon,
your pale round face without expression.
Are you sure there isn’t something?
I can smell an ancient reservoir.
Is it sorrow, grief,
or maybe a need for solitude,
in which case, please,
retire into the night
and let the Presence of silence
tend to your soul.
Explore those hollows with devotion.
When you are ready,
when the medicine of your aloneness
dissolves thickened separation,
when the unacceptable finally gathers
behind your eyes
like two cups of piping hot tea,
I will pull up a chair.
I will be here to receive
the gift of your sweet brokenness,
replacing illusion with Vision,
searching softly as I listen,
remembering you whole.