POETRY PODCAST voice recording archive audio files

20070319

Tuesday

“For only Humans Can Heal.”

THE SUPPER THAT IS MINE

The world starting spinning in circles the day you left.

Even the supper you didn’t eat repented their life
spread out in equidistant
as though imitating rays of the sun—

Circles everywhere—like Vultures scoring a hole into the sky
beckoning disgrace of your flesh.

And I ask: “Who is the Food in the case where one’s beloved wanders off
through the Veil unknown to mind?”

For if our Flesh is God’s morsel,
then Your life was my bread.

It has been easy for me to think that
Days are made of plenty:
like a River with no end,
a Source with countless supply.

It’s as if Love blinds us to the shortcomings
of Time.

Even Your Love, Undying was darkened by
the Cloak of Time: as you Wondered when I’d left the room…
if I would ever…

Return.

I did not think Living to be a Privilege or an Opportunity
as Human Being: to care take, partake, intake the Wellness
of Another.

I saw it as a Burden—to be a Sufferer—Lowly Version of an Intellectually Conflicting God.

When I un-wrapped you like an unexpected Gift
I accepted the Offer…but over time, I Declined.

I became Lowly in my Love: expecting your Patience to cultivate Me.

I had Lost my Way…
I became a Thing Unknown to Infinity.
I knew not Sacrifice…but Burden—that Sack of Rock that weighs three pounds more

Each Day.

How I have mistaken Feeding to be a Chore,
Cleaning approved—only per my sense of Vain
Caring became a Task…

Over Time.

Pattern: it is something born Whole and Beautiful.

Time breaks Pattern like a suburban sprawl mundane.

Habit dulls and numbs the piercing vorticity of Love
it Stops Feeling from Flowing—it is the Ultimate Cadaver.

Time and Habit are the Dual Leaders of War:
They Fight not for Love—but for Death…
they Bring Famine, Disease, Decay….

They make my New love for you—Age Quickly and Bored.
They make my Promises—a piggy bank of Remorse.
They make your Meaning—a Fixture on the Wall:

Like a clock, tick tock…

I did not expect your Undying Love

to Stop.

I have been Persecuted by Time
and you my Beloved—were a victim of Habit.

That Day, of the Final Return—
the Breath puts out—but never breathes once more,

I saw Habit form a Circle around me as Time
Pierced your Heart—and escorted your Soul to the Giver.

Sacrifice.

None of Shame—but of Ignorance.

My tears released the Toxicity of all things I had forgotten to Feel…

Daily.

Daily as in the bread

Daily as what you’ve taken unto me.

Daily as what I offered unto you

Daily as I forsake my privilege as a Human:

to Love…

to Love as never old

Love is always New

it is always fresh

it is a Pattern

forming constantly

of Beauty

Perfection

and Undying Grace.

—

In Memory of “Freedom“:
Rest in Peace March 17, 2007, Saturday (around 10:45 a.m.), New York City, NY
“You have given me Love in the form of Knowledge.”

About this Poem:

Perhaps it seems unlikely that anyone can write a Devotional poem about their Cat. But people often mistakenly undermine the relationship human beings have with pets.

My cat Freedom, survived many changes in my life; and throughout it, she was Constant; a constant force. She did not own one single Ounce of bitterness for all that she has witnessed, suffered and experienced…and for that, she was the Greatest teacher I’ve ever had in my life.

It was only after her death that I fully realized what a great Guru she was. I believe she was a Saint-Incarnate; whether that is strictly meant figuratively or not makes no difference–because I’ve never met a human being anyone or anything capable of behaving as Perfectly as she did.

This poem is quite literal: because the day she passed away, all the morsel of food she didn’t touch or eat separated in equal even spaces–radiating the pattern of a sun in her dish.