Gently I awaken

to wonderment

with eyes

clouded over

by too much pain

or too much

looking for pain

It is so familiar,

this search for intensity,

this search for words

to somehow express

the all of what I see

the all of what I sense

the all of what

is known

by me, by you

 

If we are somehow

still, quiet enough,

the truth approaches

cautiously and asks

Are you ready for me?

Are you now ready

to see the life

You are called to?

Are you truly ready

for this day?

 

I am knowing this

time is near

I am sensing

I have run out of excuses

for dawdling

around the truth

as it advances,

gently this time,

for the fire has done

her work

In soft approach,

I am undefended

 

I lean into truth

and hope it holds me

I lean into life

and know

my structures are leaning too,

threatening collapse

 

Crumble, I say,

you obstruct the view

and there is rising possible

 

The rumble

is an earthquake

measuring off

Richter scales,

I am shattered

and freed in a single

sweeping stroke

clean,

clear,

decisive

red on black

Slayed by words

of my own origin

Common pool as source

Resting in the vastness,

I am held

in emptiness

a deep intake of air,

my fate is sealed

Not entombed

Not enclosed

but the space of no-choice

leaves me shaking

in the silence

of this wildness

 

Words pour out

from cooler waters

from peaceful shores

next to which

I have sat -

still, I languish there

knowing the fire

and calm waters

are doing

what they do

Called by a silent voice

loudly heard

across vast canyons

Here, I am sitting here

I am sitting here

I am sitting here

 

The coyote,

nose twitching,

sniffs the

emergent breeze.

 

© Joanne Hunt