The ecstasy and agony of love everywhere
This poem was written during a Diamond Approach Cascadia weekend in Seattle. It was Easter and as we explored true nature, ethnic cleansing was happening in Bosnia. In the teaching room profound love. In the world outside malevolence, hatred and evil. These two forces cracked my heart wide open.
It is not an easy thing
The writing of these words
There is no effort of trying
They flow from whence they come
To where they go
Their life and story
Their own affair
But I am busy
With a thief
That would steal them
And place his name upon them
That scoundrel is a constant irritation
My vigilance with him
Precludes me from thinking
Of things to say
So, he is a blessing too
The writing of these words
Is not an easy thing for
I am still
In that room
And cannot stop the loving
In that room
But not in that time
In that room
But not in that place
In the endless loving
That will not stop
That cannot stop
The endless loving
Moves on and on
Through and through
I am here
In the great ruin
It is making of me
A thousand times
I have reached out
And touched His cheek
Each caress a new devastation
I am not prepared
Not ready to touch
And see such beauty
It is not an easy thing
Sitting in this room of ruin
Where the departed remain
Each tear and smile over the years
Continues its work
Washing dust from my eyes
And ashes from my heart
I am the victim
In this loving
O, poor creature that I am
Spilling tears of gratitude and joy
Into this room with her
Who says to trust
And God help me
I do, I can’t help not to
I am too vulnerable
To her startling beauty
And fierce compassion
I have no will
To resist the ruining
I awoke on the cross of the world
Every where I look
Death and horror and violence
Are dancing
Cheek-to-cheek, hand-in-hand
With love and beauty and joy
It is pleasure
Beyond pain
Beyond ecstasy
It is not an easy thing
My body is a three-year-old child
With a leg taken by a shell of hatred
And eyes blinded by the shrapnel
Of ethnic cleansing
My heart a fine filigree
Of radiant luminous gold
Illuminates the loving beyond this tragedy
Where flowers of majesty
Beyond my comprehension
Bloom in a field
Of skulls and bones
Mothers and daughters
Fathers and sons
Every moment in this room
Of boundlessness
Is not an easy thing
It is the only thing
Moving on
Into the next moment of ruin
As life eats
And renews itself
And the loving
Does not stop
Cannot stop