[Thespiritexpress] Poem read Tuesday

[Riantee Rand]

The Last Harvest

My lifelong love is slowly dying.

On my early morning walk I come to a field of daisies 
and I pick the brightest,
plucking one petal at a timeless time 
to mark our way to the finish.
“What is this life about?” I ask the daisy

Petals aflare as so many bodies of experience,
full of faces, events, places
full of people remembered 
with the clarity of an uncompromising now,
experience-bodies with my name, my many names,
consciousness traveling with the pulse of the moment 
through roles assigned by parents, teachers, friends, strangers,
a flow of memories projected in the aperture 
through which the eternal observes the manifested.

Half way through I encounter an obstruction,
a commitment I made early on 
to make something of myself, be someone I could never be.
I tried very hard but I was stuck and soon 
I did not try at all. 
I just went against the flow.

Against the flow I bonded with those bold Parisians 
that fame snatched in their early life.
Sagan, Seberg, Bardot, Godard, Truffaut, 
authors, actors, film makers who captured the spirit of the time
and released it on a consenting crowd
while riding its energy to burst out of a corseted society. 

The existential track had opened my way 
to this new wave of taboo breakers 
and I responded to the lawless call
following for a while the murmur of that crowd,
doing as they did, trying to be as they were. 

But when I noticed a new window of opportunity
	I jumped.
The spirit of the time landed me in the New World
among those singing in a newfound tongue, 
adventurers who drank the magic potion 
carrying them to other dimentions.

When I came to the last few petals
the fragrance of each decade was disclosed
so pure it could be received
and given away in the same instant.

One more petal as I listened to the language of my heart
bringing back to myself the power I had given others,
and as the reminiscences faded away
I questioned the daisy in my hand:
“what do I truly want at the crepuscule of my life
when my lover is dying?”

It’s all there, inside, all there with such clarity,
the world, the friends, the events, the settings,
a full 3D color movie with all flavor, all movements of soul.
	Don’t you see? 
You have been handed the key that opens the passage 
to every body of experience until the last. 
	Don’t you see? 
The being in all beings is the same being,
so hear all the voices 
without the judgment of your thinking mind,
don’t shrink in fear but expand in love
	as you jump into old age.

It’s the last harvest, 
surveying experiences while divesting your self of experiences
in a landscape that is the mind of god.
Your longing for the past is love itself 
filtering through the veil and glowing
like a memory of eternity you long to return to.

Remember, the self of every self is god infinite,
so jump, 
die before you die,
die with your loved one. 
					*****
I pluck the very last petal, 
I thank the naked daisy,
I lay it down, I turn around:

Spring has arrived.

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