Snow-caves in the Winds
by Rob Littler
All you can see is all the time
Spent trying to see all you could see—
The backward knowing, often sublime
Wisdom that comes from jumping through
Time, witnessing the many selves we are
Each wishing upon the same different star
And how even the most limitless push has
Limitations from its intimations to its replications…
Some things we take as truth because of our faith
In the fact “it could be” trumps, always, if
We are really prepared to abandon the luxury
Of not having to care, or the luxury of removing
Reasons why treading lightly is the best policy even
If you are not sure why, or worse, prepared to stomp.
When you walk slowly into the wind, seeking
To give you flight, and at times the gust is met
With the will to be swept from the face of it all,
The mind puts the fright, the visceral fear, deeply
Into its body’s ankles, somehow granting gravity that
Ineffable meeting of push and pull, it is the secret
Orbit we share declining, falling, facing the burnup
Re-entry surely will cause, leaving thinking to regulate
The actions necessary for survival. Burying each step
Deeply you can hold your breath and flex every
Fiber of your being against the raging chaos. Each
Step a victory for the desire it takes to lose all desire.
Because there is a place where the wind subsides
Where no matter to what heights the heart denies
Hope in being rescued to survive, being continually
Willing to be met halfway is the key to being among the living.
You must save your flares for the right time, like learning
How to master “what” to say “when” it requires attuning
To the many voices and advisements just beneath the practice
Of talking to one’s self. Or us.
Posted on 12/03/2019
Copyright © 2020 Rob Littler
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/03/19 at 02:41 PM|
Nice work Rob! Thought provoking as always.
|Posted by Glenn Currier on 12/07/19 at 05:24 PM|
Fascinating journey, this poem, and what a gift to accompany you on it. There are a few lines that were gems for me: "Willing to be met halfway is the key to being among the living" and "witnessing the many selves we are / Each wishing upon the same different star" I can relate to the experience of pushing forward in the wind. You bring out how this experience can be a metaphor for living life and deepening our experience of it. Thanks for a genius work, Rob.
|Posted by Laura Doom on 02/22/20 at 08:06 PM|
An epic in no time, a passage to ubiquity through static eccentricity to exhaustion, having been moved without moving. Do we ever unwind?