[Thespiritexpress] Poem The Beach

[rnadeau]

Riantee ~~~~~~~~ Thank you for sending this poem all written out ~~~ I was personally having a difficult time 

tracking Tuesday morning at the Pathwork group ~~~~ This is a deep poem from the depths of the psyche~~. 

It stirs up so much ~~~~~!!!! Exactly what is happening in the PathWork of Self-Transformation~. 

w/Love and Appreciation, ~Ron

> On Aug 31, 2023, at 2:31 PM, Riantee Rand via Thespiritexpress <thespiritexpress at lists.mcn.org> wrote:
> 
> The Beach
>                                     
> is where the wild things are,
> where glinting-eyed tigers sit around bonfires
> listening to stories coming out of the bag,
>  
> the bag of the raconteur who joins our camp circle
> and manifests sailboats, sirens and sea monsters
> then unfurls an ocean and navigates a caravel
>  
> into those fanciful times 
> when a hero in a barrel 
> trusted himself to the wild, wild sea.
>  
> On her island, the hero's white Lady, 
> waited patiently, 
> spinning away the thread of his return,
>  
> spinning to the rhythm of the surf,
> the cries of seabirds,  
> sitting still, she spun his destiny.
>  
> Only fishing could relieve the Fisher King
> from the aching burn 
> in his damaged genitals.
>  
> Life wounds young males, 
> scorches adolescent pride;
>  
> teacher's scorn shatters, 
> father's sarcasm cripples.
>  
> The slayer of a child's trust will be thrown 
> into the ocean deep, the holy book tells us,
> for water washes away 
> the sins of the fathers.
>  
> Nothing concealed or set in concrete 
> on wild beaches, 
> nothing defined or contained,
> no manly erection.
>  
> And we can sink our feet 
> deep in the sand, 
> dredge up our lost voice
>  
> and plunge into the one-memory-for-all.
>  
> How will we ever find out if brightly capped birds
> sleep with their heads tucked under their wings,
> and how will we translate the song of the seal,
> if we cannot reach down 
> to the metaphors, 
> the similes, 
> if nothing can be like something else,
> if we cannot stand on the border 
> where we see ourselves as others?
>  
> How can we ever cease to be biology, 
> explode the anatomy 
> and flow where sand meets water, 
> be other 
> than the words we constantly speak 
> about ourselves 
> to a mirror
> if wild things 
> are chased away from our beaches?
>  
> When lions and tigers 
> no longer sit at our campfire.
> who will draw the Lady's island back in sight,
> entice her to join the mainland?
>  
> How can we ever take any chance, risk a change,
> if we are not allowed to sleep under the purring of the stars, 
> attached, like strings to a kite, 
> to their odysseys, their fantasies
> as they unravel the precise anarchy 
> in the dreamer's mind?  
>  
> And how will we know about the wild face of God
> if we cannot let the leopard behind our eyes 
> guide us to the very edge of the sea?
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