Wednesday, October 21, 2015

To Live


A Zen feeling swept over me today. Maybe it’s the sun shining, maybe it’s a dear friend musing about a romantic encounter that left her speechless and smiling, maybe it’s the Kerouac article I read, maybe it’s just my amorian insides begging to be tended to. I have been distracted of late, lethargic, listless, and depressive even (I am starting to see a trend in my grown-up self, egads!). And then, out of nowhere, this feeling. Fundamentally, I am an optimist. The fibers of my being are woven together with love and kindness. I am prone to the sunny side of things despite the evil intentions of things like social media and negative humans who darken my way. I am, in every way, every word of this verse. I, in every way, hope these very sentiments for my people and their people and so on and so forth. Today I am feeling the full force of collected wisdom and peace. I hope, in some small way, you do too from my sappy little poem.

Mid-week sanguinity at its finest!

There are always reasons to smile in the face of any kind of adversity. In mine, I wrote this poem. And in mine, I look to the end of the week where rock ‘n’ roll will save whatever sanity I have left from this work week. July Talk for Halifax Pop Explosion with my best bud. These, the things I cling to when I’m feeling defeated!

So, the poem:

To Live

let us ponder the fertile wisdom
of the wild rucksack revolution
who wander to bless those in their
path with kindness and compassion

let us consider the brave notions while
we thumb the rules of spontaneous prose
studied by the platoon of bodhisattvas for
the sole purpose of learning to dream out loud

let us rejoice writing with fever and truth
to allow our deepest flaws to draw great love
commandeer the sacredness of a moment
and indulge in the existence of breathing freely

let us know sadness on the inside and out
reacquaint our true selves with the excitement
a spray of stars are noble companions in silence
building our perfect shadow on a sunrise mountain

let us desire the potent will to live as a whole poem
as a whole person poised to serve with intention
for the world, the universe, the Heavens, for ourselves

**

I meet you here, in the middle of the week, in a new Canada, with well wishes.

Broken crayons still color.

In propinquity,
Nic












3 comments:

  1. It's hard to say which inspires me most, Nicole: your poetry, or you.

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  2. Both! Broken crayons still color... Magic.

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    Replies
    1. Oh, yeah - that line jumped right out at me; perfection!

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