[Thespiritexpress] Poem read Tuesday

[Cornelia Gerken]

dear Riantee,
how beautiful, yes I see the sad, but it is elevating me, in celebration of
life, as was as is as will be. Just beautiful. Thank you
Cornelia

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

> The Last Harvest
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> My lifelong love is slowly dying.
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> On my early morning walk I come to a field of daisies
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> and I pick the brightest,
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> plucking one petal at a timeless time
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> to mark our way to the finish.
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> “What is this life about?” I ask the daisy
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> Petals aflare as so many bodies of experience,
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> full of faces, events, places
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> full of people remembered
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> with the clarity of an uncompromising now,
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> experience-bodies with my name, my many names,
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> consciousness traveling with the pulse of the moment
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> through roles assigned by parents, teachers, friends, strangers,
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> a flow of memories projected in the aperture
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> through which the eternal observes the manifested.
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> Half way through I encounter an obstruction,
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> a commitment I made early on
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> to make something of myself, be someone I could never be.
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> I tried very hard but I was stuck and soon
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> I did not try at all.
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> I just went against the flow.
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> Against the flow I bonded with those bold Parisians
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> that fame snatched in their early life.
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> Sagan, Seberg, Bardot, Godard, Truffaut,
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> authors, actors, film makers who captured the spirit of the time
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> and released it on a consenting crowd
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> while riding its energy to burst out of a corseted society.
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> The existential track had opened my way
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> to this new wave of taboo breakers
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> and I responded to the lawless call
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> following for a while the murmur of that crowd,
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> doing as they did, trying to be as they were.
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> But when I noticed a new window of opportunity
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> I jumped.
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> The spirit of the time landed me in the New World
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> among those singing in a newfound tongue,
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> adventurers who drank the magic potion
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> carrying them to other dimentions.
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> When I came to the last few petals
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> the fragrance of each decade was disclosed
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> so pure it could be received
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> and given away in the same instant.
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> One more petal as I listened to the language of my heart
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> bringing back to myself the power I had given others,
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> and as the reminiscences faded away
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> I questioned the daisy in my hand:
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> “what do I truly want at the crepuscule of my life
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> when my lover is dying?”
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> It’s all there, inside, all there with such clarity,
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> the world, the friends, the events, the settings,
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> a full 3D color movie with all flavor, all movements of soul.
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> Don’t you see?
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> You have been handed the key that opens the passage
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> to every body of experience until the last.
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> Don’t you see?
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> The being in all beings is the same being,
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> so hear all the voices
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> without the judgment of your thinking mind,
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> don’t shrink in fear but expand in love
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> as you jump into old age.
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> It’s the last harvest,
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> surveying experiences while divesting your self of experiences
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> in a landscape that is the mind of god.
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> Your longing for the past is love itself
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> filtering through the veil and glowing
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> like a memory of eternity you long to return to.
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> Remember, the self of every self is god infinite,
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> so jump,
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> die before you die,
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> die with your loved one.
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> *****
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> I pluck the very last petal,
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> I thank the naked daisy,
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> I lay it down, I turn around:
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> Spring has arrived.
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