• 01/21/2017 at 9:23 am

    Prologue

    25 years ago

    See me

    Feel me

    Taste me

    Touch me

    Here and gone and here again

    Living, dying, born again

    Moving, flowing, ceasing, stopping

    Flowing, going once again.

    See me

    Feel me

    Touch me

    Heal me

    I Want To Remember

    I Want To Remember

    What weight feels like when one  ( I )
    take it  — Walking  — leg muscles,  feet,
    knees,  lower back,  neck.

     What the breeze feels like.

    What tears are.

    What the heart,   The Heart,   opening
    feels like.

    What a falling leaf does

    What a falling leaf does when it hits the,    lands
    on the,   water.

    Melancholy    Music
    Love     Tenderness
    Fullness    Strength
    Completion    Power

    How to reach out

    How to overcome   grief
    reticence
    uncertainty
    shyness

    I  Want  To  Remember

    God

    Self

    and  Mary

    Walking with the breath
    Breathing
    Sunlight
    Why

    What comes next after you’re    ( I’m )    ( We’re )   done?

            You    I     We  /    You      Me      Us    /    You’re      I’m      We’re

     Oona Mia singing  —  Clear,  clarity,  crisp,

      a sharpness without being sharp.

      The high notes,  the upper atmosphere.


    Sleep
    Eat
    Drink
    Love
    Not necessarily in that order.


    [ If you could have only one,
    Which would it be? ]

    How to bridge the gap    —    especially
    and stay unexpecting,  not needy.

    How to tolerate the space, that

                ambiguity, that uncertainty.

    The Heart opens
    — not easily
    — not without pain

    a creaky door
    unused
    The      ______      space  —  not dark

                  —  not
    —  blank
    —  but more than blank.

    The space between the silences.

    Tears as joy.
    The Transformation.
    Like  “Chaos”  to   “Order”.
    Pain and sorrow to sublime joy.
    Quiet, rocking gently on little waves.

    From active and powerful   (  to some,    frightening )

     To present and presence and quiet and powerful.

    *******************************************************************

    A Letter to My Angel

    How was it I did not know you were there?

    Did my mother rock me or was that you?

    Did you breathe life into me when I could breathe only enough 

            to survive?

    Did you revel in my play?

    Yet watch close by?

    Surely you were there at Khe Sanh!

    And brought alive the Nature Spirits in that dead place as you did 

            when I was a child.

    Am I ready, now, finally, to receive you? Or will I still try to hide?

    Those times where you had to stand by me, only to witness and 

            not intervene.  Were those times also hard for you?

    Did you whisper in my ear? Did you witness in my dreams?

    Somehow I got through!

    Somehow we got through! 

    Authentic Movement

    At night.

    In a dreamless state, awake.

    Looking into the dark and

    Into the dark spaces

    Unseen in my soul.

    My Guardian Angel, yes you, there last year,

    Just behind my left shoulder

    But unseen.

    I go back in time, 1 year, 2, 5, 10, to age 3.

    The silhouettes, the hints of the patterns

    Lightly sketched, etched on the photographic plate of my soul

    To slowly be revealed

    When submerged in the liquid of movement.

    I am touched.

    So that’s where this liquid life emerges 

         through the fountain I used to call my eyes.

    Another answer given to a question

         not yet recognized.

    And the lifting of the veils continues

    In this protective womb.

    And the fountain flows.

    Open Circle

    In the end was the light

    Circles

    Rolling

    Rising

    Down

    In   –   Inward   –   Into

    Heart exposed,  pierced,

    Into pain,   Into tears,   Into birth,

         Welcoming pain,

      For without the pain,

        there is no healing

      And without the healing,

        there is no feeling

      And without the feeling,

        there is no life.

    I am dead,  I am dying,  I am death itself.

      Master of all, Master death

      and

        Master all.

    I am a Man and I welcome the pain,

    for it tells me I am alive

        and I live.

    God, pierce my breast, tear it open

    Reach in, match my pain

     

    and heal me.

    Poems submitted by Gregg Grandson