let the light
You work with what you are given,
the red clay of grief,
the black clay of stubbornness going on after.
Clay that tastes of care or carelessness,
clay that smells of the bottoms of rivers or dust.
Each thought is a life you have lived or failed to live,
each word is a dish you have eaten or left on the table.
There are honeys so bitter
no one would willingly choose to take them.
The clay takes them: honey of weariness, honey of vanity,
honey of cruelty, fear.
This rebus —slip and stubbornness,
bottom of river, my own consumed life—
when will I learn to read it
plainly, slowly, uncolored by hope or desire?
Not to understand it, only to see.
As water given sugar sweetens, given salt grows salty,
we become our choices.
Each yes, each no continues,
this one a ladder, that one an anvil or cup.
The ladder leans into its darkness.
The anvil leans into its silence.
The cup sits empty.
How can I enter this question the clay has asked?
🔹
Rebus by Jane Hirshfield
The lion still roars
I walk in grief
On the purple beach
the grey-green water
meeting the sky
Into infinity
the world unending
I sit on driftwood
Fascinatingly carved by water
Into pieces of art
and shapes that look like
cattle skulls in the desert
I cry as I pick up rocks
Why do i grieve such simple things?
Those precious shells
I spent hours snorkeling for
In 1985
You polished them
til they were smooth as silk
So beautiful
I loved everything about them
and that memory they held
Back When the world was still
A mystery
And I knew nothing about hardship
Loss or pain
I thought love and life were simple
That you wanted me to be happy
That you loved me
That we would build a family together
I kept those shells in a special jar
Would let the kids play with them
For a special treat
I loved their delight in them
As they played for hours
sorting the colors and shapes
Loving the story of us at the start
I Kept them close to me
Through all the losses
Then they were gone
lost to me forever
way after my innocence
but somehow they took
some shred I was holding on to
Some secret part of me and you
that was still beautiful
As I picked up small beautiful rocks
today at the beach
They reminded me
and it all returned
all the losses
all the pain
What you chose
The choices I was forced to make
The price of gaining my soul
The cost of winning my freedom
I cry so deeply
Right to the core
such intense love
for the wounded heart
carried in small pieces
of the world
connecting all the pain
and love together
Bittersweet grief
Bittersweet love
Exquisite pain
Exquisite joy
Will I ever find love that understands this?
Will I ever share this same heart as one?
Will I ever make it home?
Will I ever make it?
Will I ever?
Will I?
Will?
💙
AL
photos found at http://www.pinterest.com
life: acoustic & amplified 