It’s going to take more, so much more,
than trying harder to make things work.
Noble efforts and courageous stands
have emotional appeal but will not bring us what we seek.
All forms of religion, government, economics, and education
must be compassionately given to hospice care.
New, unheard of, unthought of, undreamed of forms
are stirring within the womb,
pushing into the birth canal,
and needing room to grow,
space in which to bring new life.
What’s awaiting us,
there on the other side of thought,
is the “truly Real,”
I glimpse it, but faintly through the fog
of fears and hopes that swirl about.
There! I see it.
Now it’s gone.
And in its place the usual clutter
that claims dominion of my life.
What is the price of seeing?
Am I willing to pay that price?
Not right now, please.
A few more days and years
of patching things together,
holding on to diversions
that keep the existential fears at bay.
Not willing to open fingers stiff
from clutching what cannot be held,
afraid to let illusions fade away.
The Piper must be paid at last
so why not pay him now?
I cannot think my way to joy;
cannot create it from the patterns in my mind.
I can only clear a space into which it can lightly settle,
and begin to shine and glow and radiate
its warmth into the cold dark places
my mind has built in order to feel safe.
I see it, there it is!
Oops, it slipped away.
It will come again, soon sometime
Can you see it?