[Thespiritexpress] Poem read Tuesday

[Roz]

Aww, Riantee , this is so sad, profound and so very true and beautiful!  What a difficult and amazing time, you walk this path with so much Love and grace.  
I love you

Roz🙏🏼🩷🌹
Sent from my iPad

> On Apr 3, 2025, at 9:15 AM, Riantee Rand via Thespiritexpress <thespiritexpress at lists.mcn.org> wrote:
> 
> 
> 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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