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Lake Michigan-Terry Andre Beach / Sunrise June 25, 2012

My recent poem post came to me in the middle of the night, I got up, turned on the light, wrote it quickly in my journal, then promptly went back to sleep and forgot all about it. I don’t know where poetry is birthed from, or even what this poem means, but this week of my 52nd birthday has me thinking thoughts of birth and rebirth. Perhaps it will mean something to you.

“Is That You, George Albert?”

You came back to me
After all these years
Dressed in nothing
But the Dao
So timeless
This song you sing
I see you now
Standing before me
Even in your naked nothingness
So that all that I long for
Is to be for you
As the softness of water
Is to the sea
As the skin of the earth
Is to the sun
Knocked to my knees
Dumb down by impeccable wisdom
Living another dimension
Within the one I formally
Refused to leave
Never have I been
So healed, so whole
As I am today
In this instance of my eternal birth
A place where only hope exists
Have you come to sing me home?
Never mind the mouth of the cave
Which sucks the sun like
A hungry litter
Instead, go deep
Into the bowels
Without a light–
And feel your way home
For the gate is narrow
Make of yourself a lamp
And illuminate the world
Better to write
Away in obscurity and joy
For we live in a world
Where love matters
Someday, we will live in a world
Where love is all there is and then, nothing else will matter.