Tag: mystery

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Welcome to poetry day on the blog. What I love about poetry is the mystery in it. Sometimes I write a poem, and it is still an enigma, even to me, as to what the poem really means. Writing a poem is like going into the deep tombs of yourself, and discovering unusual, foreign writing on the wall, and quickly and excitedly transcribing this strange writing, without fully understanding the meaning behind it. Reading a poem offers this same mercurial experience. Undoubtedly, there is a different meaning and truth that comes from any poem, from every reader of it. Everyone’s own experiences and emotions are what brings the context to the meaning in any collection of words. Here is my poem for the day:

The Universe has a way of getting really bored of my stubborn streak,

While I hem and haw and analyze, and strategize, and collect my allies,

The Universe says, Enough already!

And tends to make the changes that I couldn’t make for myself,

in one fell swoop. And then we Both sigh in utter relief.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

2361. Complete this thought: All roads lead to . . . ?

Soul Sunday

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Poems are mysteriously personal. As the poet Zaynab writes: “Everyone goes to the same poem, at the same time, same point, same verb, the difference is the feeling”. I choose not to share the backstory of this poem that I have just written. Bring your own story to it. That’s what makes poetry so intimate and flexible. And write yourself a poem. It’s a beautiful thing to be vulnerable with yourself.

I thought by your absence,

That you were long gone.

No longer tethered to the past.

Fully free and ensconced in a life

Foreign to any of us.

But now I see that by you following her,

So quickly into the unknown, that

You were more attached to her,

than any of us.

The cords were never cut.

Such a brave front you both liked to carry,

to shelter your bruised and vulnerable and wounded hearts.

When you soon meet again,

the bravados will have fallen,

and the healed hearts will be as One,

with all of the other healed hearts,

that beat soundly and steadily,

for the whole of us,

beyond the veil.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.