Whip it up,
knock it out,
get it done,
give me a shout!

give it a whirl,
keep up the pace!

Give your best,
your last,
your all–
so that you stay
well in the race!–

Don’t lag behind!
Don’t lose your place!

But wait!!–
Does it have to be a fight?–

Or does it really
have to be
a race?

Things move so fast,
we often forget,
to pause a bit,
from time to time,
to catch our breath,
and feel the beating
of our heart,
the air upon our
and back and neck,
the fire and motion in our gut,
the life
within our arms and legs,

see where we’ve been
and where we are,
and just what
we have done so far,
how, why, with whom. . .

and on all this,
for a little stretch of time
to comtemplate–

It does not to take too long
just long enough
to get yourself
with all this stuff
a little more in tune. . .

allow yourself
some breath,
and a little
elbow room,
in which to take
a little break. . .

If you’ve been going
all along,
exactly as you want to go,

That’s really great!–

move forward,
from now on–
Stay on just that track!

But, if,
maybe there’s a little something–
just a little lack,
or some way of going
or of coming
you’ve been using
that you find would like
a little tweaking,
then tweak away!–

Mold it better in the image
of your deepest, highest dreaming,
which would bring you,
from within your own sole shell,
and within the field that hold us,
which slowly
into your burgeoning awareness,
and your widening vision
comes more crystalline in view,

It is the field that heals
all of us,
because it holds us
till we feel stronger, calmer,
and more well. . .

For this effort,
though it may feel
draining, awkward, scary,
strained with discomfort,

is very apt prove to yield
a happier reality,
when sturdy, careful
lovingly and artfully
our energies do meld,

and our common fabric’s
further worked and woven,
to mend the snags
the worn spots and the holes,
and any other place
our connection web
is a bit taut
or maybe sags,

or where warps or wefts
have failed to interlace
in such a way
as to heal and embrace
the souls that sadly,
somewhere on the way,
have been hurt
or even broken. . .

though the threads
of each one life
are spun so short
and pass so fast,

when we gather,
all together,
to forge and tend
our common net–
to which
each of us will gladly
give some part
of all the stuff
it’s meant to get,

it will be strong
enough to last–

and we do not
really ever
leave the weave,
not even when,
from our current solid form
we one day pass.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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