As I continue to heal the wounding that brought me to my knees at this time last year, this poem arose to meet the anniversary of my near death. It is all a journey to heal the trauma held within the body that heals the mind and soul too. We are one holistic being and everything matters:
All Things
I am mother I am father
I am sister I am brother
I am love and i am hate
I am light and i am dark
I am victim i am perpetrator
The heart of Humanity holds all consciousness and is all things.
Coming to peace holds it all within us.
Delicately allowing all the pain of humanity. Celebrating the joy.
The center is the quiet in the eye of the storm.
It all touches and flows through and we are one. Dance. We dance with our partner. Our partner is nothing other than life itself.
***
After sharing the above with Chris Cole he shared the below poem by Thich Nhat Hanh with me:
Please Call Me by My True Names
Do not say that I’ll depart tomorrow—
even today I am still arriving.
Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.
I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope,
the rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that are alive.
I am the mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when Spring comes,
arrives in time to eat the mayfly.
I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond,
and I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.
I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.
I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.
I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay his
“debt of blood” to my people
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.
My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.
***
See also, by Chris Cole: The Sadhana of God: Practicing Impossible Love
***
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The ever fickle populace changes, the land, the river, the mists, the tall majestic fir trees, a comfort, knowing how one can always depend on these to give their life sustaining gifts.
The transition from late summer into the fall bringing peace and tranquility. I would remember the many days of pears on the grass, pick clusters of roses, resting and curling up for the winter slumber.
Some simple words and observations. Healing trauma. Everything matters.
Nice post and lovely poems Monica
http://www.therushmag.com/jeremy-radin-poetry
On Loving
by Jeremy Radin
Thank you for these! I wish you continuing strength, heart, and joy in all you do and experience. We ARE all one.