Conversation – A Thread You Follow

The Many-Colored Way

I said, "Can't you see that it doesn't
matter to me if you run your sword
through my soul?"

She asked, "Are you so certain
in your monkish response
that pain will no longer matter?"

I answered, "Somewhere there is
no concern between what is right
and what is wrong."

She said, "Those who believe so
practice dancing on graves
in the middle of the night."

I apologized, "My sleep was full
of dark dreams meant only 
for those who cherish pain."

She said, "Try walking down avenues
paved with stones of many colors
each sharper than razor blades."

Ought

I said, "I realized this morning
that my shadow of control
feasts on Ought energy."

She said, "That is the Way
it ought to be."

I said, "Even the most basic
'Be mindfuls' come from 
the place of Oughtness."

She said, "We act surprised
when we discover how closely
Is and Ought dwell together."

I asked, not expecting an answer,
"Ought we not try to begin again
so as to avoid the Imperative?"

She answered, "Or perhaps
we must ask the vegetables
how we ought to grow."

Divine Self-Expression

I said, "Imagine removing fear
from all decisions we decide today."

She said, "You would burn your finger
or walk straight into the nearest wall."

I asked, "Would there be anything left 
holding me back from making the change 
that most needs to happen?"

She answered, "There are poems that can
be found in the movement of the leaves
blown by the unseen wind."

I said, "Any love can survive until one
comes across an unexplained drawing
in cryptoglyphic writing on the walls."

She said, "We become the chosen language
of the divine seeking to express itself."

The Shape of Today

I said, "I dreamed I was a bird eating
a couple of seeds before flying off 
to a bird bath for a sip of water."

She said, "Imagine how many persons
sat inside their homes looking out
windows upon your performance."

I said, "I should have charged admission
in exchange for the free food and drink."

She said, "Watching in the here and now
may make room for a note or two 
in our journal to be read in twenty years."

I said, "I am fortunate to have many days
to be joyfully remembered in the distant
future."

She said, "The ordinariness of today
shapes the shape of the days bringing
a close to the banquet of life."

The Second Moment

I said, "I dreamed that I couldn't 
even communicate my own 
accountability blocks."

She said, "So many intellectual
and emotional framings sound
trite in this day."

I asked, "Was I blocked or simply
not in the time and space
to talk the necessary language?"

She replied, "If you must lean,
lean into those connections
that don't yell and scream."

I said, "There was a piece of gold
in the dream.  Someone whispered,
Wait for the second moment."

She smiled.  "One really does not
have to know.  Feeling like there is
something present might be enough."

Ordinary Pessimism

I said, "I have decided to defend myself
against the many charges of me
being a pessimist."

She asked, "And is that possible
with reality the way it is; with
the crushing expectations of life?"

I replied, "Are you suggesting
that labels, once applied, are unable
to be removed?"

She answered, "There are times
when the overgrown bushes
need to be pulled out."

I said, "Perhaps in our drive
to be inhuman we need to curb
our natural impulses."

She said, "Or raise the level of preaching
filling the pews with unwanted desires
to achieve ordinariness."

The Valley of Decision

I said, "I had a dream that I was showing
off the latest dance in the middle of 
a circle of family and friends."

She asked, "Did you feel the
watching-centeredness change
from one dance to the next?"

I said, "No.  But the look of love
from parents and grandparents
remained between steps and turns."

She said, "It is not possible for time
to ever get tired of experiencing
moments like these."

I asked, tentatively, "Do you think that
awe in the midst of the grand mystery
will always remain with us?"

She answered, "Remember what the 
prophet said, 'Multitudes, multitudes 
in the valley of decision!"

A Bite

I said, "The last bite tasted the same 
as the first bite."

She said, "Sometimes the call
to be different from those around us
remains hidden in folded spaces."

I asked, "How, then, might loving
our neighbor fit into knowing 
differentness?"

She answered, "Shrines on the same
side of the street often share
peculiar and various words of comfort."

I said, "I recognize where the need 
for performing in the eyes of my ancestors
comes from."

She said, "We place a baby in our aunt's arms
and witness the generations coming to us."

Confessing Prophecy

I said, "I have a confession to make.
I failed to do what Simon said."

She said, "Perhaps it takes one
act of disobedience before we 
can claim our inheritance."

I asked, "What practicality does a belief
have if it doesn't make a difference
in our lives?"

She answered, "Is it a belief or is it
something that should be trashed?"

I said, "I have yet to consult with
the oracle of doom and gloom as to 
what if any action is needed."

She said, "Leave prophecy for the pages
of the books taken seriously by scholars."

The Faithful Remnant

I said, "I dreamed last night 
that the troublers of conscience 
came streaming out of the woodwork."

She said, "Sometimes even the ravens 
demand attention while performing."

I asked, "How does a voice make sound
in the midst of people who are convinced
that only they know the real ways?"

She answered, "Silence is fertile ground
for mutterings to emerge."

I said, "In walking from place to place,
so many feel mysteriously unconnected
to anything that might be called human."

She sighed, "The faithful remnant may 
come and go unexpectedly but they
will be seen and heard."