[Thespiritexpress] Fwd: Human Family2

[Roz]

That is so beautiful Riantee, especially the last line,  growing gently younger into your death

Love, Roz 

Sent from my iPad

> On Feb 15, 2023, at 10:40 AM, Riantee Rand via Thespiritexpress <thespiritexpress at lists.mcn.org> wrote:
> 
> Poem read at the yurt
>> 
>> Human Family2 - To Lillia                                     
>>  
>> It's strange to be held captive of illness
>> in a bed of tenderness
>> up on a loft 
>> between a soft pillow and a book partly read
>> listening to the faceless voices of family and friends below,
>> listening,
>> unresponsive, without any disquiet, 
>> as though you were dead.
>>  
>> That's how I pictured my own family as a child,
>> feeding me with their being by just being,
>> with no need on my part to perform.
>> Inspired by their wholeness I'd have the courage 
>> to be whole on my own,
>> to be my own authority.
>>  
>> It's winter time, the weather is at its darkest,
>> the cold medallions of rain fall tight together and incessant
>> saturating the landscape and drawing out from the earth's belly 
>> the slimy substance of snails and slugs.
>> It oozes, copiously covering the land with a coat of decay 
>> to prepare it for the new growth.
>>  
>> The house is full of plaintive voices 
>> from the mice to the wind and the creaking of old beams,
>> the crackling of fire and the gentle rhythm of music
>> on which the loved voices weave conversations and games.
>> You would never sense the interlinking of relationships in such a way
>> if you were down there.
>>  
>> Someone throws a log to keep the fire going,
>> the rattle of the poker has a voice, 
>> "Listen, there is a story here,
>> keep that fire alive, keep it going,
>> tell the messenger in your wordless way 
>> that you are ready to hear, 
>> to receive the knowledge that is stored in every living form, 
>> every particle, mineral, animal, plant, 
>> in every feeling or emotion."
>>  
>> How strange and rare are those moments 
>> when you have the tenderness of the dead among the living. 
>> Dead to their needs, to their longings, 
>> dead to your need for their appreciation 
>> dead to their desires and to your pictures, 
>> you are so dispensable you can shed  
>> personality,
>> culpability, 
>> obligation 
>> and everything you ever blamed 
>> right there and then.
>>  
>> And suddenly, there is absolutely no necessity
>> to do anything but let the love inside of you
>> be born over and over
>> purring and taking many fanciful forms 
>> as you gently grow younger 
>> into your death.
> 
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