Friday, September 2, 2011

The More Life Changes...

Some smart person once said it...the more life changes, the more it remains the same. And these two poetic reflections, written about 4 years ago and published in my book, Life Lines, could have been written today.

left hanging
     we speak these words like
      a mantra of encouragement,
      support, to someone struggling
      with a problem, a situation
     which taxes their resources
     and brings them to the
     brink of desperation…
     things will get better, we
     imply. This can’t last forever-
      this pain, this problem, this
      agony threatening to tear you
     apart, body from soul,
     limb from limb…
     while deep within a
     voice is crying, “I just
     can’t do this anymore!”
     Can’t bear the pain…
     can’t face the agony
     which doesn’t seem to
     let up or let go…
      always such a virtue?
      and shouldn’t letting go
      be an option for each
      one of us at some point
      in time?

I am circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been
circling for a thousand years, and I still don’t know if I am a falcon,
or a storm, or a great song.
-Ranier Maria Rilke
Some days my life feels
surreal…but I am living it
and that makes it my reality,
doesn’t it? I try really hard
to “follow the path in front
of me”…but somehow, that
only seems like reality if
there IS a path…
      What if you’re hanging out
        there in midair, at the end
        of your proverbial rope? Is
        that when “Let go” comes
        into play? trusting that when
        I fall, I will land on my feet-
        or at least on something fairly
        soft- so I can get up, perhaps
       bruised & battered, and
       FOLLOW THE PATH        
         once again?
Talk about surreal! For how
many times in life have I done
just that- hung there at the end
of my rope with even that end
unraveling- and finally given up…
                                    let go…
                          because there was
                          no other choice.
                                        And is this cowardice
                                             or courage?
                                             or simply the
                                                    surreality of life?

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