INSTRUMENT
Lord make me an instrument of Thy peace-- (St Francis of Assisi) |
I am trying to walk the path of my truth. |
I am trying to write my truth. |
I pray to be an instrument of |
the Creator who is |
Truth itself. |
I am trying to walk the path of my love. |
I am trying to write of my love. |
I pray to be an instrument of |
the Creator who is |
Love itself. |
I am trying to walk the path of my awareness. |
I am trying to write with my awareness. |
I pray to be an instrument of |
the Creator who is |
Awareness itself. |
The Creator- |
Truth |
Awareness |
Love |
Co-inhering |
in bliss as |
The One. |
I pray to be an instrument |
of unity, |
of bliss, |
of The One. |
The infinite is bliss-- (Chāndogya Upaniṣad) |
QUANTUM ENTANGLEMENT
As above so below-- (The Emerald Tablet) |
Once upon a time |
there were two quantum states |
|Alice> and |Bob> |
born into a family |
coaxed by coherence into sameness. |
Entangled in oneness, so that |
knowing one you knew them all. |
But |Alice> and |Bob> were twins |
born with instructions to conserve a zero |
so that if |Alice> was made to spin one way, |
|Bob> would spin in the opposite way. |
And vice versa. |
Entangled |
Coherent and |
Correlated. |
The physicists that played with |Alice>'s spin |
observed to their surprise and chagrin |
that |Bob>'s spin instantly became opposite |
no matter how far away he was from his twin- |
maybe, even, on the other side of the galaxy. |
By the laws of special relativity, |
this is impossible - it just should not be. |
It seems these playful people have uncovered a |
quantum mystery. |
You see, in our world of ordinary matter and energy |
nothing can move faster than the speed of light |
not even information. |
A solution to this mystery might be that |
|Alice> and |Bob> exist not only in our world, |
but are also somehow present |
in a virtual world |
where information can travel at a |
speed of infinity. |
There is such a world in the basement of our spacetime: |
The rabbit hole of the vacuum, the world of zeroes, |
the world of unity, where there is |
no causality. |
The playful people have seen that as either of the twins |
get more involved with our ordinary world |
(and less with the virtual world?) |
they lose track of each other: they decohere. |
They become free from their obligation to unity |
and become completely |
Uncorrelated, |
Unentangled and |
Incoherent. |
Isn't physics fun? |
हनुमान्:
(HANUMAN:) Son of the wind, destroyer of demons, I bow to you-- (Krishna Das) |
The music filling the room |
is the Hanuman Chalisa |
written in praise of me, |
sung by a man who |
loves me. |
I am kissed by the perfume of incense. |
A candle flickers beside me. |
There is a man in the room with me. |
A moment ago he was prostrate on the floor, |
exercising before a small bronze statue of me, |
the monkey god of service and devotion to RAM, |
warrior in the cause of Love. |
There is love in the |
man's heart. |
I live. |
It is a beautiful symbiosis. |
Matter and Spirit, |
Spirit and Matter. |
LAST NOTE |
The keys are sticking on my old piano |
and the pedals are broke. |
It's time to close the lid |
and let it rest. |
I hope when you think of that dear instrument |
you will always remember the |
sweet sounds that it made, |
and the joy that it gave me to bring |
music to my children and |
all whom I love. |
|
When you think of me I hope you |
will always remember the music |
and this passionate wish that your lives |
will be filled with laughter |
and dancing |
and love. |
It's possible, you know, |
that wherever I go, |
your loving thoughts |
will bring music |
to my soul. |
EVERYDAY
EVERYMAN |
I live! |
Creation is not a dream! |
It is real because I am alive! |
I dance in freedom along my path in space and time |
balancing the oneness of my soul with the |
dualities of my mind. |
My mind studies |
the ways of the Mother, Pachamama, |
from the Cosmos to the living beings that surround me. |
She teaches me lessons of oneness, connection and harmony. |
As I pass through the world of the Mother and glimpse the |
oneness of life, my soul whispers a mantra to my mind |
"Be aware. Be grateful. |
Be aware. Be grateful." |
And I find the gratitude expanding |
the openings in my heart |
through which my soul |
guides my |
mind. |
I exist as a tiny single cell |
linked into the great network that is |
the body of mankind. |
My heart is the membrane that protects and defines this cell |
just as my physical being is protected and defined |
by the membrane of my mind |
and my body protected and defined |
by the membrane of my skin. |
My tiny mind is linked into the network of the noösphere, |
the great membrane that is forming to |
define and protect all |
of mankind |
The channels in the membrane of my heart connect my life to the |
world of Spirit, of Oneness, to the world of my soul. |
Through the openings in my heart I am connected in love and |
awareness to the Creator and all other beings living or dead |
whose hearts are open to connection with me. |
These connections are treasures laid up in Heaven. |
They are my immortal soul and |
the purpose of my life, |
everyday.
|
As the brain evolved in the garden of the Mother |
into ever greater levels of complexity and connection, |
a critical state was reached, a new level of existence, |
self-awareness, emerged in the biosphere. |
The body of mankind was born.
|
The noösphere is the brain in the body of mankind. |
And it too is now evolving in the garden of the Mother. |
Past is prologue. The direction is clear. |
The emergence of a new level of awareness for all of humanity, |
global consciousness, the awareness of our unity |
with each other and the Mother, |
is the destination here. |
The health of the noösphere reflects the health of the nodes in |
in the network from which it emerges. |
And vice versa. |
Everyday I rejoice in the freedom to choose to make my little node |
as healthy as I can, choosing to infuse all of my connections |
with the healing power |
of love. |
Everyday I take joy in acting to keep the tiny piece of the garden |
around me a place of peace and beauty, |
blessed by Pachamama and reflecting |
the promise of Easter, |
the presence of |
The Dove. |
But the horrors of Good Friday cannot be forgotten. |
There are tumors of hell in the body of mankind |
created there by people who have chosen |
to keep their hearts closed and |
so have no soul to help guide |
their selfish and divided minds. |
My open heart is an organ of compassion, an organ |
of mirror-neurons that can ache with the suffering of others. |
Compassion energizes the linking of my mind to the noösphere, |
nourishing its evolution, hastening the emergence of |
healing connection to those isolated inside the tumors of hell. |
My compassion is compounded by frustration because I know that if |
the people without souls, these demons who create the tumors of |
hell, would simply choose to open their hearts and their eyes |
to the presence of the Dove, |
all of this suffering could |
dissolve into Love.
|
In the immune system of the body of mankind, |
Love is the antibody that heals |
the cancer of separation, |
the tumors of hell. |
The openings in the membrane of my skin |
connect my mind with the world of the senses. |
Sadhus and saints and ascetics through the ages have preached |
that the straightest path to the realization of The One |
passes through the renunciation of the senses |
and the mortification of the flesh. |
That is no doubt the path of the great ones |
whose purity of thought is above reproach, |
worthy of all reverence and respect. |
But that is not the path I chose. |
I have chosen to be a husband, householder and father, |
a path that keeps me firmly grounded in flesh. |
I stand before you in the skin of everyman |
all senses and appetites intact. |
My feet are stained from dancing in the clay |
in the garden of the Mother. |
My senses take pleasure from Pachamama's bounty and |
delight in the beauty of all of her children. |
When my mind hears the ascetic's rebuke and questions |
my enjoyment of life, my soul answers: |
"Just do no harm. |
Everyman's path can lead to The One." |
So, everyday I pray for my daily bread, |
to be delivered from evil, |
to be made an instrument of peace, |
for the Creator's will to be done. |
And everyday, my soul answers, |
"Be aware. |
Be grateful. |
Do no harm." |
And it tells me that the Creator's will |
for Everyman |
is that we choose to |
Love One Another. |
Everyday.
|
EASTER SUNDAY
|
Jesus lives! |
The Son has risen! |
Heaven exists for the people of the earth! |
Rejoice! |
Hell is a world of the mind |
- a world of dualities |
where Satan is free to roam. |
Heaven is the world of the soul |
- the world of Oneness |
where Satan cannot go. |
The Father |
The Son |
and the Holy Spirit. |
Brahman |
Atman |
and Ananda. |
The Condor |
the Eagle |
and the Dove. |
The Infinite |
the Finite |
co-inhereing in the Oneness that is Love. |
Today we can go beyond identifying our suffering |
with the image of the tortured Corpse |
nailed to the tree of duality |
planted in the soil of |
hell. |
Today we can turn toward the Oneness of Heaven |
and identify our souls with the image of the Dove |
- the symbol of the Comforter promised to |
all mankind by the Man on the cross |
- the symbol of the Holy Spirit |
- the symbol of the Love |
that makes us One |
and that lights |
our way |
Home.
|
Love is the only way out of hell. |
GOOD FRIDAY
|
I live in hell -a world where there are |
parents who rape and kill their own children, |
men who throw acid in the faces of |
little girls that want to go to school, |
people who shout "God is Great" |
while murdering other people praying |
in their churches and mosques |
to the only God |
there is. |
I live in hell- a world where |
one group of people |
feels entitled to enslave another, |
where governments murder or imprison their |
own people to protect the power and wealth of the mighty, |
or where the powerful feel free to exploit and |
then abandon to poverty and misery |
the most vulnerable of our |
brethren. |
I live in a world that tortured and murdered |
the man from Galilee who long ago preached |
that the kingdom of God is within every person |
and that God's will, the only law there is, |
is to Love your Self and to |
Love One Another. |
In this hell even the followers of the Galilean |
have burned alive those who wanted |
to read the Gospels in their own language, |
or tortured to death those who value reason |
above the arbitrary dogmas of the follower's faith, |
or blessed the wars that have destroyed cultures |
and sickened humanity's soul.
|
Today my heart is drowning in tears, |
squeezed in an icy grip of anxiety. |
I have been writing for months of another world |
where the will of the Creator is realized |
and the people in this world love one another. |
Am I going mad? |
I have been trying to guide the little boat |
of my own world with love and awareness |
but today the ocean seems so |
wild, vast and |
forsaken.
|
Is my death the only way out of hell? |
FRIGATE BIRD
Riding wind and laughing at the moon-- (Krishna Das) |
A frigate bird glides lazily |
above the palm fronds |
framing my view of the sky. |
The fresh ocean breezes of Mexico |
kiss my skin with warmth |
and delicate moisture. |
My lovely wife |
sits happily reading |
by the blue pool. |
My thoughts turn to my children |
and I feel nothing but |
joy. |
In my ears are the music |
of my guru's chants- |
the holy name of |
RAM.
|
My soul floats on folded wings |
above the tumult of my mind |
in the space between
|
time and eternity.
|
Everywhere I look I see only RAM-- (Neem Karoli
Baba)
|
ORION
|
There is a beautiful |
sight in the sky tonight. |
Orion shines down on me. |
Once Orion reminded me |
of my first love, |
and the clear November nights |
of our courtship.
|
Once Orion reminded me |
of winter |
and the time to |
gather wood. |
Tonight Orion is just another |
beautiful sight in the sky. |
Jupiter is chasing Mars along |
the highway of the Sun. |
While the moon casts the |
shadow of Mars onto |
Orion's belt. |
When I look at the stars in the belt |
I imagine seeing the trinity of |
*Awareness*Truth*Love |
hurtling through time |
to rescue the earth |
on the wings of |
The Dove.
|
FRIENDS |
Four open hearts |
had a meal together last night. |
While winter winds blew through the world outside |
we feasted and warmed ourselves with |
laughter and the sharing of our stories. |
We talked long into the night |
of the love in our hearts |
and our hopes for the |
world outside. |
Our parting embraces were strong with |
gratitude for the connections that |
nourish awareness and love. |
Going to sleep, the house was filled with |
the delicious smells of the spices of our feast. |
The warm body of my wife against my skin |
caressed the opening in my heart through the night. |
When I awoke there was
|
incense on my breath.
|
TO A FRIEND IN DARKNESS |
They tell me that it looks like you may have given up on life. |
Life is a great gift if you learn to look at it that way. |
If your goal is truly death, then life has given you the gift |
of time to prepare for a happy death.
|
What is a happy death? |
I think it's when: |
You can leave in peace with no regrets |
and leave peace behind you; |
When you can leave surrounded by love |
and leave love behind you. |
That is a happy death- |
entering all that is Love, |
being in love.
|
In this life it may be that |
you are who you think you are. |
In the next it may be that |
you are who you love.
|
So the last thing in this world |
you want to do right now is to |
lose the love of anyone, |
especially the woman who has so |
lovingly agreed to share your life. |
The first thing in this world |
you want to do right now is to |
Wake Up, my brother! |
Find the light within you. |
Love! |
Live!
|
Please. |
HAFIZ: |
Your beauty makes my heart leap. |
Your words make my heart dance. |
Long ago in his perfumed garden |
The Omram told me that the fire in my leap |
Is the fire in the engines of my life. |
But to remember that the engine room is blind - |
The ship needs a helmsman to keep it safe. |
His words are wise. |
The fire burns. |
The ship sails on. |
Long miles at sea have taught me |
That the only helmsman |
Who can bring me safely to You is |
Love. |
The fire in the leap |
And the fire in the dance |
Are one |
Love. |
Don't be alarmed at the leap. |
That's just the kind of heart I have |
A heart that leaps |
A heart that dances |
in |
Love. |
BUDDHA: |
Sometimes you have to swim |
Through a sea of sorrow |
To find the light within you. |
The pure light of the One who |
will guide your way on. |
The One in whom we all |
coexist in love. |
The home where all |
love surrounds you. |
You will all be home |
When you all |
turn toward the light within you and |
Love One Another. |
For the light and your home are Love. |
It's as simple as that. |
HOLIDAY WISHES |
May we always enjoy the experience of eating food |
prepared by someone who loves us. |
May we always experience the joy of preparing food |
for someone we love.
|
May we always experience the joy of |
being in the presence of someone who loves us. |
May we always experience the joy of |
being in the presence of someone we love. |
May we always be aware that we are |
living in the presence of The One, |
the Creator of all that exists, |
The One who nourishes all life, |
The One who is |
Awareness itself.
|
May we always choose to |
Love one another |
so the energy of The One can help us |
make a better world. |
For The One is |
Love itself.
|
If we doubt that The One helps and guides |
those who love one another, |
may we at least choose to love our Self. |
May we love our Self so we can |
experience the presence and the |
Love of The One within. |
And may the Truth of that experience |
be reflected in our own lives. |
May every human being learn how to live |
in the presence of The One - |
who is Awareness, Truth and the |
Love that makes us One. |
Joy To The World. |
A MEALTIME PRAYER |
Let us give thanks to __________* |
for life and the bounty of the Earth.
|
May these gifts nourish our bodies. |
May this gathering nourish our souls.
|
May our souls nourish the Earth. |
We pray for this in the name of |
Awareness, of Truth and of the Love |
that makes us One. |
Amen. |
*FILL IN THE BLANK (Some suggestions) |
the Universe |
The One |
the Creator |
the Lord |
the Mother, Pachamama, |
God |
Allah |
Brahman |
Maa Durga |
our Ancestors |
---
|
WAVES |
Love One Another. |
And one day waves of trust |
will surge through the noösphere |
that will sweep away all weapons of mass destruction. |
Love One Another. |
And one day waves of understanding |
will surge through the noösphere: |
-that a bond for building unity among mankind is that |
we all love our children; |
-that every child born on the earth has rights to protection, nourishment, medical
care, a healthy environment, literacy and access to the noösphere.
|
Love One Another. |
And one day waves of compassion |
will surge through the noösphere |
that will lead mankind to work together to make those rights a reality for all.
|
Love One Another. |
And one day waves of wisdom |
will surge through the noösphere |
allowing mankind to find ways to share the resources needed for this work without
conflict and without damaging the earth.
|
Love One Another. |
And one day waves of activity and enterprise |
will surge through the noösphere |
that can use the talents and energy of every human being to help bring about and sustain this better world. |
Every life will be recognized as precious. |
All will prosper.
|
Love One Another. |
And we will bring about the reign of the Spirit on earth. |
That, or the caves. |
It's our choice.
|
GRACE |
Gracias. |
Thanks. |
The only prayer in response to Grace is |
Gratitude. |
Grace is the vision to see the Creator |
everywhere and in everything. |
This vision is the greatest of all gifts. |
but it is not something you can be given |
--like manna. |
It requires our cooperation. |
We have to open our heart to Grace. |
Grace is an aspect of the Creator |
experiencing the Creator. |
When we all have the Grace to see that |
we are all aspects of the Creator - |
that we all emerge into this world |
from the dimensionless ocean of |
Love and Awareness, |
the Kingdom of the Creator |
will have arrived on the earth. |
In the meantime, |
remember Karma. |
PAULO COELHO: A Personal Legend |
I am an aspect of the Creator. |
To walk righteous on my Path I reflect the
|
beauty and compassion of the Mother |
and the wisdom and mercy of the Father. |
I tread lightly on the earth. |
I honor and respect the body I have been given |
and treat it with love. |
My Path leads to Awareness - |
the male aspect of Love. |
The fire that powers my steps |
along the path is Love - |
the female aspect of Awareness.
|
I exist to bring Awareness and Love - |
the Father and the Mother as The One- |
to all situations. |
It is not my purpose |
to convince you that we are |
all aspects of the Creator. |
That is what we all know. |
It is sufficient that I |
walk righteous on my Path. |
YOUNG BEAUTY |
Beautiful young woman |
with jewel eyes and soft smile
|
you will fire my dreams |
with warm kisses and the
heat of our embrace. |
In the light of the day we pass |
stunned by your beauty |
surprised at the peaceful acceptance |
that never again will I know |
the excitement of discovering your body |
of igniting your passion.
|
You smile at the old man. |
Maybe you know that |
his heart leaps at the sight of you |
that he could wrap you in his |
wisdom and his wealth |
and sweeten your life with |
slow and powerful pleasures.
|
But he will not fill your womb with children |
There is no future for you here. |
So you see only that he has no hair |
that his skin is weathered and wrinkled |
and you pass him by.
|
The woman at my side gently |
takes my hand and I know that |
the joy in my heart that leaps was |
put there by the love that we share. |
The peace I feel as you pass me by |
comes from knowing that she will be |
by my side for the rest of our days.
|
There is grey in her hair |
and her body, like mine, |
bears the burden of years. |
But I see in her all the beauty |
you will ever have. |
Her delicate goodness brings forth |
prayers of gratitude from deep within |
my soul. |
Her fingers touch the ring that she gave me |
as a promise so many years ago. |
My love for her began with the touch of her hand. |
My nights are sweetened by the touch of her hand. |
The ring will shine with the purity of love |
until, moistened with her tears, she gently removes it |
from my lifeless hand. |
So with peace in my heart as I pass you by |
I smile and send a silent wish that you |
will know happiness like mine. |
Adeus, young beauty, |
Adeus.
|
A BLUE STONE |
It's not the thing, |
It's the experiencing of the thing |
that matters. |
We (all living beings) are channels |
of experience emerging from the ocean of |
collective experience. |
Without any effort, we are constantly |
directing experience downward into that ocean. |
Our state of evolution reflects and depends |
on our ability to channel experience |
upward from that ocean into |
our interactions with each other and with nature. . |
The latter requires effort - |
it is the great work |
of which we are all a part. . |
Today I put a blue stone around my neck |
to remind me of the ocean from which we come |
and of the work yet to be done. |
ON THE WAY HOME |
The orange sun rising through the mist |
over the bay of Nice- the Cote d'Azur. |
Paris hidden in a soggy grey blanket |
of pounding rain. |
A silken thread high above a wind |
sculpted world of cloudy purity and |
the textured surface of the mighty ocean. |
Ice flows and bergs migrating southward |
to subtle extinction. |
NEWS OF A SHOOTING |
Human blood has been spilled on |
the mountain once again. |
The cold hand of death |
clutching the carmine snow. |
Sunshine shivers, |
the raven shadows the |
sadness below. |
LONELINESS |
He stood nose against the glass |
Staring in the dark at "la vie en face" |
Smelling the dust in the curtains |
Thinking of sunshine. |
Dark icy death whispering beneath the bridge, |
He longed to hear a lover's sigh. |
A FUTURE? Goals: |
* Microprocessor Based Photovoltaic Energy Management Systems |
* Synthesis (through poetry?) |
*Poetry (through synthesis?) |
*Be at home with the Lady of the Mountain |
*Let go. |
Images: |
*Creation of work, wealth, community |
*Self awareness, growth |
*Home, love, loving, intimacy |
*Wings |
RESEARCH |
The hunter in the cyclotron's mazes |
caught in the trap of the hunt |
quickens his pace |
sensing the kill. |
CLEANSING |
Like water washing over a stone |
Feelings and emotions wash over my Self. |
Today, anger swirled over me |
Old angers - bubbling their way from |
deep in my past. |
The other day, fear shivered over me |
Old fears- gurgling up from |
deep in my dreams. |
Tomorrow, they will be whispering |
their way to the sea. |
EYES |
I am a little bubble of I-ness |
in a sea of Thou-ness |
A bubble of darkness in an ocean |
of lightness. |
A single living cell with a membrane |
Separating I-ness and Thou-ness. |
There are irises in the |
eyes of my membrane. |
TIPI |
Here in the lonely spaces |
is where I come into being- |
slowly, painfully, joyfully. |
Wings wet and limp |
dry in New Mexico sun. |
Chrysalis is a very |
private matter. |
GAME OVER |
The drama of most of my life |
has been the sound and fury |
of my (instinctive) trust in Awareness |
battling my distrust of instinct. |
Stalemated. |
This meaningless game is |
for me, I hope, finished |
forever. |
SWEETHEARTS |
A small cardbord box of candy hearts |
Pull one out. See what it says. |
A white "Bye Bye", |
No. Not that one. |
A carmen "Kiss Me", |
Keep going. |
A yellow "Drop It", |
Again, try for another. |
A small rose heart sings "Sure Love". |
Yes . That's the one. |
Come on, friend. Put your hand in here. |
Pull one out. |
See what it says. |
FALCON |
Lying in the lair of the falcon |
the hunter dreamt of the eagle. |
The little bird stirred in her sleep |
and he awakened to her presence. |
The torn heart stirred in his breast |
as he soothed her brave and beautiful |
body with light and grateful touch. |
The memory of their wounding |
was upon them both |
yet both strained eager |
for the coming hunt. |
He had no need of eagles. |
The land where eagles dwell |
is too barren to hunt. |
And the eagle flies |
only for himself. |
50 YEARS AGO ON THE BBC |
A king's voice |
searching heaven's heights |
bounces, |
breaking back |
to the isle |
glowing green |
against the dark |
rolling sea. |
Startled, the humans below |
for the first time feel |
bound into one thought |
one mind and folk. |
Hearing for the first time |
all as one but alone |
the voice of the one |
they call the king. |
The voice spoke |
only with the sounds of common earth |
and echoed not giant's talk |
or dragon's fiery roar. |
The people of the island |
wondered at the weakness, |
searching new strength. |
The singing sword sighs into rust |
on the cold castle floor. |
GOLDEN |
Xanthe blowing curls |
gleaming in the dim light of the moon. |
Xanthe stalks the streets |
of the ancient city |
seeking her way. |
Her feet still recall the hot |
sucking sands of the new world |
where the sun sparkled Xanthe on the sea. |
Her loins feel still |
the throbbing rythm of raw drums |
and frenzied hands |
while a hot Xanthe sun |
rose high in a cloudless sky. |
HENRY MILLER: Short Story |
Full Fuck |
Feel Fuck |
Fall Fuck |
Fool Fuck |
No! Yes! |
Fell Fuck |
Felt Fuck |
Filling Fuck |
Fine Fuck |
FIN |
CAPTAIN |
Silken skin, |
Soft |
Dancing eyes, |
Deep |
Budding breast, |
Firm |
Small body, |
Proud |
Happy laugh, |
Warm |
Your smile is my command. |
NOW |
The hunter hunts |
A tree grows tall in Paris |
A white thread melts in the sky. |
A small wounded falcon |
preens gently her bright coat |
resting on the strong green arms. |
The tree sighs with joy |
the hunter holds his breath |
the thread spins into thin clouds. |
DIVORCE |
Sister to my life, |
can you think of the pain |
you bring to my life? |
Can your heart be so hard |
standing before the doors of your soul - on guard, |
to not let pass a single thought |
of the passage of your brother's soul? |
If your heart could yield, |
could your soul bear the sound of my screams? |
Your soul is lighter and gayer than mine, |
that shivers in horror |
at even the memory |
of your tear's gentle streams. |
Can you think of the pain? |
In a few days of quick, dizzy, dancing time |
two children of my soul |
will leave the warmth of our bonds |
and the home made and warmed by those bonds |
to live in an estranger's house. |
For the fourth petrified time, |
they will leave the intimacy of my embrace |
while my soul helplessly watches |
the vision and incense of their presence |
become lost in the milling mass of strangers. |
For the fourth petrifying time |
their gentle lives will be wrapped in fragile metal |
and they will be cast into the sky |
to fly away from me |
faster than the winds, high above the hills. |
For the fourth terrible time |
my soul will stagger |
with the tearing, sickening grief |
that is expected and accepted |
and that never weakens. |
Can I bear the pain? |
You cannot think of it. |
Your need has caused it to be so. |
HUNTER |
I am a hunter, |
not a gatherer |
or tender of fires and shelter, |
but a hunter. |
And my home |
is the home of a hunter. |
It should be light |
air-like and filled with the |
excitement of the hunt. |
The people who live in that home |
should feel pride |
that they live and love |
with a hunter. |
A man who takes risks |
to master his grounds, |
to make the fearful |
- a provider of food, |
to find the way to new grounds |
when his people have need. |
The hunter is special |
to his people |
because he is willing to take risks. |
His strength is visible |
to his people |
by the dangers he faces and overcomes |
and their vision is proud. |
Some years ago |
I stopped being a hunter |
and became a gatherer - |
to gather green grain for a distant day |
when I feared my strength would be low |
and my people's need would be great. |
But I forgot my people |
were a hunter's people |
they cannot be at peace |
with the mind of a gatherer. |
After he hunts again |
the hunter will come home. |