Perhaps A Feast

I am afraid
that you’ll set it down
somewhere
you won’t remember.

Because
when we do with
what we can’t live with
the same that we do
with things we can live without
the line between them
fails in discerning
which is which.

We fall into this thin seam
of a place
where what we hoped for
and what is so very different
collide like angry bees
and pinwheel
endlessly.

Ghosting.
What we do
when it’s too much
for far too long.
Not wanting to die
or really live…
either choice
means choosing
to admit a truth
that the bridge
of your heart
can’t allow passage over.

It’s a heavy thing.
Truth can break a woman.
Honesty can kill the man you knew.
Who are you now?
You won’t be…you
if what’s real is told true.
There are truths
that hold us down
our whole lives.
Look on your children’s shoulders,
you’ll see the marks there.
The only people here
that get out alive
while still alive
are those that
risk everything
for even a kernel
of truth.

A single grain of
faced, brightened
explosive reality
is a  hundred pound bag.
Too soon and it crushes.
Too late and…well…it’s too late.
But the right moment?
A feast.

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About skymeetingtheground

Healer, poet, author, yogi, single father...outdoorsy guy.
This entry was posted in kundalini support, Meditations, Poetry, prayer, sacred poetry, spiritual poems and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Perhaps A Feast

  1. peter lynch says:

    the synchronicity of this post is remarkable, and the message to be drawn from it humbling and frightening, but perhaps another step on the path to liberation.  thanks, as always.  peter  

    Like

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