The Welcoming Party

comments 33
Poetry

When I see a leaf
as big as a baby elephant’s ear
bouncing in sunlight,
plunged like an open hand
into a river of life-giving rays
93 million miles deep,
and behaving so mysteriously
responding to the way of things
with medicinal
colors and chemistries
only it can offer,
as if flush with a secret
I once discarded in favor
of concocted ideas of legitimacy
that involve passing out cards
with my name on them
in a clever font–
I sense,
by the contrast
to my own earnest reconnoitering,
that the edge of me is a boundary
where real magic
breaks down.

I am truest in the quiet–
when I dissolve into the world’s warmth,
and ten thousand spectra illumine my interior,
when my love for you seeps up
through cracks in the floor
I once concocted to limit my falling.
This blood,
this resin
that we are together,
has me on hands and knees,
ignoring the door bell,
contemplating the formulae
of this moment’s revelation,
wanting to draw still closer,
to fall fully into
what lies beneath.

Just beyond,
we have birds of color
who frequent our feeders.
They are what thank-you’s become
when they are freed to make a life
of their own.

The world is beauty
we are meant to don like a cloak,
a wholeness
whose patterns and memories
are meant to enfold us–
a river of sustenance
ten thousand years deep
leaking out through our smiles.

There are still, in my days,
too many moments when
I catch myself
trying to pass messages
through the boundary.

It’s okay,
the water is up to my elbows,
the front door is swinging
open in the breeze,
and one of magic’s
no-nonsense representatives
is standing on the threshold,
waving in the ocean.

33 Comments

    • Hi Brad,

      Thanks for the note. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the experience of distance, or lack thereof, to the world, and realizing that I think in unity there is this deep feeling of communion that arises through ourselves. We dissolve into it, and the world is then wrapped around us like a cloak. I think it is kind of a practice, too, or can be. To venture out into the world through our hearts, and feel that linking up and dissolving…

      Blessings
      Michael

      Liked by 3 people

  1. That is a beautiful piece. I like the part about truest in the quiet and love seeping through the floor.
    The awe of unity seeps through every line of this poem.
    Peace,
    Karin

    Liked by 3 people

    • Thank you very much, Karin.

      I like the way you wrote the awe of unity, because that is truly how it feels when we experience it, isn’t it? It is overwhelming in the very best of ways. Only that little voice in our head is overwhelmed I think… the rest of us is simply flying!

      Peace to you also,
      Michael

      Liked by 2 people

    • Yes, Alison, it’s all here! We remind each other of this, and we just keep bringing ourselves back to it after we wander… Every breath an arrival…

      Love
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Hello Michael,

    I could sit and read your lines from the mystery of our soul forever… but then
    “one of magic’s
    no-nonsense representatives
    is standing on the threshold,
    waving in the ocean.”

    and I feel myself moving about again, something moving me from within/without – and I continue exploring this sea of energy of which I am a current…

    …but this one gave me a real chuckle… a memory from my own past coming up to be smiled at:

    “concocted ideas of legitimacy
    that involve passing out cards
    with my name on them
    in a clever font–”

    loving you,

    tomas

    Liked by 3 people

    • Hi Tomas,

      Thank you for the kind sentiments, and for stopping by here. Follow the flow where it leads, my friend! You are finding some beautiful places and I always enjoy reading your expressions of what you’ve found. I’m delighted you found a moment’s discovery here and left a footprint.

      Loving you, too–
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Mystically delicious, it spoke to the Zoologist in me – among other “me”s- and now off to sea I go (blisfully) in a beautiful pea green boat 🙂 Harlon

    Liked by 2 people

    • Hi Harlon,

      Thanks for the glance into your zoologically-inclined self… Just one of love’s colors revealed through the prism that is Harlon…

      The water is rising still, and it’s good to know you have a worthy vessel for making this shared crossing of the ocean of who we are…

      Peace
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Well now, you’ve inspired a whole post. I shall say this, your business cards resemble my hedges, and a certain thank you has been granted a full and healthy life, and sings outside my bedroom window. If the edge of you is where magic breaks down, perhaps we can create it new where our two hands connect together. Another thank you come to life. Beautiful poetry, Michael. As always, inspiring.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you, Andrea. I feel the magic is there in every joining– in unity if you will. It seems our hearts have already conspired together, long ago perhaps, or just tonight– I cannot tell the difference anymore– as I suspect is the case with more than we realize, like your newfound singer-acrobat-winged friend, and your rioting hedge. I love what is revealed in the telling of these encounters. What is revealed is something we all recognize… our fiercely percolating Self peeking back at us. Today I watched a small gas turbine get picked up off a flatbed truck and set onto a foundation, witnessed the temporary evacuation of a building, spilled chicken drippings onto the kitchen floor while trying unsuccessfully to recreate the scene of the crane and the gas turbine with my right arm and a cooked chicken, and then my wife informed me with no small satisfaction that trans fats have been banned by the FDA, but it’s okay, because we can free up some closet space if I need to stockpile some black market Krispy Kremes. Life is very strange indeed, but thankfully we have the magic of one another!

      Michael

      Liked by 2 people

  5. Dear Michael,
    I don’t think there’s anything left for me to say – maybe I just wanted to tell you that. I was reading your response to Andrea, and I thought: “I wonder if Michael is familiar with Don Delilo?” I’m particularly thinking of the book: White Noise. Delilo weaves stories (satirical) stories together in the most interesting way.

    I am happy to have read your poem a few times, Michael. With every read, I seem to get much more out of it. Happy oceans experiences to you! Looking forward to more poetry!
    XxKa

    Like

    • Hi Ka,

      I’ve heard of Don DeLillo and White Noise is on the list, but I haven’t read any of his books as of yet. You’re comment here suggests a re-shuffling of my literary priorities, which are never well-defined to begin with so it’s perfect! Right now I’m slowly working my way through Thomas Pynchon’s Mason & Dixon, which at the rate I’m going will likely be a project to savor all summer long…

      I’m also grateful for your feedback on the poetry. I’m glad there are tidbits of discovery in there for you and for others. There certainly are for me. Writing often feels like it’s really the process of trying to describe these inner worlds we’re always bumping into, and I think they are as new to the one writing the descriptions as they are to the readers.

      Have a great weekend!
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Meg! Yes, this Love is arriving through every opportunity… We are companions floating along this river ten thousand miles deep… 🙂

      Blessings
      Michael

      Like

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