Letter to ______________ - October 3, 2010

You have broken my heart.

Just as well. Now

I am learning to rise

Above all that, learning

The thin life, waking up

Simply to praise

Everything in this world that is

Strong and beautiful

Always-the trees, the rocks,

The fields, the news

From heaven, the laughter

That comes back

All the same. Just as well. Time

To read books, rake the lawn

In peace, sweep the floor, scour

The faces of the pans,

Anything .And I have been so

Diligent it is almost

Over, I am growing myself

As strong as rock, as a tree

Which, if I put my arms around it, does not

Lean away. It is a

Wonderful life. Comfortable.

I read the papers. Maybe

I will go on a cruise, maybe I will

Cross the entire ocean, more than once.

Whatever you think, I have scarcely

Thought of you. Whatever you imagine,

It never really happened. Only a few

Evenings of nonsense. Whatever you believe-

Dear one, dear one-

Do not believe this letter.

I wonder how many people each of us would like a letter like this to. I am thinking of one or two. How, after our parting I did not know how to deal with the pain and my heart that had broken open. So I turned without and as my heart mended it healed a little bit larger to take in the beauty of the world around me, and in me. I was determined that love would not destroy me, but grow me. If I could but just let those of past now how well I’ve done without them – my parrot companions, my father, my Mayan. What I would also tell them that still in the night, they come to me in dreams, and in the morning the heart sighs and I must rewrite that letter and the story of my life.

To whom would you send such a letter?

Reckless Poem - August 23, 2010

Today again I am hardly myself.

It happens over and over.

It is heaven-sent.

It flows through me

Like the blue wave.

Green leaves-you may believe this or not-

Have once or twice

Burst from the tips of my fingers

Somewhere

Deep in the woods,

In the reckless seizure of spring.

Though, of course, I also know that other song,

The sweet passion of one-ness.

Just yesterday I watched an ant crossing a path, through the tumbled pine seeds she toiled. And I thought: she will never live another life but this one. And I thought: if she lives her life with all her strength is she not wonderful and wise? And I continued this up the miraculous pyramid of everything until I came to myself.

And still, even in those northern woods, on these hills of sand I have flown from the window of myself to become white heron, gray whale, fox, hedgehog, camel. Oh sometimes already my body has felt like he body of a flower~ Sometimes already my heart is a red parrot, perched among strange, dark trees, flapping and screaming.

Just last night I was telling my spouse how these days I go to bed thinking of parrots, and get up in the morning thinking of parrots.. It is like an old friend has come to keep me company once again. For many years I had not had much to do with parrots directly, turning my spirit hope to seeing the wisdom and strength of my own species. This took a while, for returning from years working in Central America, my image of myself amongst humans was that of John the Baptist, screaming mad and spitting locusts. This role came to be I suppose because of the harm I had seen done to the earth and her feathered beings, and the subsequent alternating rage and depression. I found it hard to see anything miraculous about humans who consider themselves atop the pyramid, but eventually I did. That accomplished, more or less and as much as anyone can be fully accepting of our kind, I spend more and more of my days and thoughts back in the avian world. Parrots are not just a flapping and screaming species, nor are humans. Though alas dear heart, some days I long to exchange wisdom for recklessness, and squawk out pure defiance, and yes joy. Perhaps I do as these words sprout from my fingers.

Who are you when you are not yourself?