Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Let It Open Me

Writing this from the Big Island of Hawaii, though the poem was written before we came.  I've been meaning to put it out, and I guess now's the time!  The photo is from our ohana on a mango farm in Captain Cook.

Let it open me –
            the pained lungs,
            the aching stomach,
            the morning sadness.

Let it open me –
            the small flock of birds winging west,
            the reach of the nearby redwood trees,
            the sound of children’s footsteps overhead.

Let it open me –
            the fears attending the aging body,
            the grief over a friend’s death,
            the water dripping through the ceiling.

Let it open me –
            the warmth of the bath,
            the sweet spiciness of morning tea,
            the flickering candles on my writing table.

Let it open me -
            this advice of
            the Buddhist teacher
            I read every morning.

This is the work –
            opening, opening, opening
            whether in pain and sorrow
            or in joy and gratitude.

She says - life is not for
            seeking safety and pleasure,
            nor for running from
            pain and suffering.

We must, I must,
            receive everything,
            breathe it in and
             let all of it
open me.

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