Sometimes our bodies say, “I am a hollow reed – music is playing through me.” Sometimes our bodies say, “I am a gnarled rag- in need of an amorous cleansing.” Sometimes: strong, connected, grounded, river rock. But when the body says I have become separated from the temple And we are left with the great divide It is then, That our parched and torn eyes Seek out the hidden Ocean Which says, “Let the water fill the chasmAnd become a pool once more. Let the rag unfurl its blackened and desparate tangle And receive a thousand stars. Let the music have its way again And soak up the fragrance of love.” Ear to sky Knees to ground Head to stone Hand to heart We bow to that Eternal One Who stands like a guardian of what We abandon daily. And when the body says, I know nothing but longing at the gateThe stone becomes ground The cloth a banner The chasm a bridge strewn With those fragrant flowers Over which We return to ourselves. Music a choir Freedom an epitaph The pool an ocean Abandoning what we love no more.
A Chasm