The Way Is Deep

The increase in complexity includes the generation of millions upon millions of complex forms of life, all with complex behaviors, all tied together through webs of connection and relationship.  All an irremovable part of the web of life.  All of them a part of Gaia, all of them Gaia in one form or another. ~ Stephen Buhner

The healing path can seem torturous

a labyrinth of tree

tunnels with no higher perspective.

My brother says there is no god as his port

is filled with chemo.  He has renounced

religious dogma and its political control.

He scoffs at faith in magic.

I wanted to write a novel

about the spiritual poverty

inherent in my own debilitating illness.

Raise a commotion

about the cause of inflammation.

Add more fuel — such valuable

wood, hand-collected, to the very fire

I wish to comprehend.

The wildfire that swept through

and burned every bit of me.

Going deep into the woods

trudging sometimes alarmed

by the roots that trip, 

the looming shadows, deep

with danger.  For so long, I have

watched the skies, rejoicing

in sun-dappled touches,

light, fleeting.

Seeking illumination as the way out

of here.  Here in the primeval 

forest of fragile beginnings

in the rotting decomposition

the place which the lightseekers

avoid.  I let go of these precious 

bodies I’ve been dragging.  Gaia has been

waiting for me, in me,

where all the adjustments I seek

can be woven.  My colors,

my yarn, my patterns.

Only I can create space to feel

these intricate threads which stretch

vibrating between us in a harmony

I must simply trust 

and allow to unfold.

My essential being opens

in this presence huge

beyond my comprehension. 

Available perhaps only through

transmission.  Every word dripping

in a poem of power

to land its healing vibes

directly into your heart.

 

Inspired by: Debilitate, Commotion, Novel, Poverty