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Poetry: Cartographer [06 Jan 2010|12:47am]

healingdrysuits
Cartographer

Eager we are,
to emboss our signature,
on the map of the human heart,
as if we know the way,
as if we are the cartographer.

All we really get to know
is that enlightenment is somewhere,
and that we search the maps
for what that means to us.
Stymied by the magnitude
and sheer size, when unfurled
feeling halted, pen quivering
when we attempt to plot the course
over astounding topographies,
who’s peaks of despair
and lowlands of happiness
we cannot fathom.

All we really get to record
is where we have been.
Our maps
are nothing more than retrospectives
and no two are the same
when compared.
Initiating tremendous debate
in the halls of thought
and deep frustration
ensues, when we find
that we borrowed
or pilfered
another’s map...
all just maps to the past
none yet complete
making us yearn for exactness
craving accuracy like a man
dying from scurvy
craves fresh, clean water.

And yet...dear captain
do not forestall your journey!
Strike the mast with your hand
and call up the sails.
Wrap determined fingers
around varnished copper astrolabe
warm from your touch,
familiar,
sight the constellations by night
and follow the winds by day
Wipe clear the table!
Throw down your parchment!
Grab the fountain pen and chart!
Gladly embrace where you have been
and proudly demark its location.

And above all else
I offer these words to you
fellow traveller...
You will find what you seek.
But the one that seeks
will not be the one
that finds.

The human mind
is not capable enough
to plot the trajectory
or guess the exact location
of where the richness of experience
with your human heart
will lead you to.
The treasure you clamor for
cannot be experienced
by the mind that clamors.

Cry enough over that loss
to sink your ship
and finally, blessedly
somewhere on the journey
you may come to a great emptiness
a place where longitude and latitude
run parallel and never know one another
and you may fall off the edge of the world
never to be seen again
and yet you will be seeing the world
for the first time
in a lasting way- for all time.

If this happens...
Walk away from the plotting table
with the compass spinning with incomprehension
pens rolling around like misplaced notions
and just lay down on the chest
of the great ship
surrender to its sway
feel the mighty ocean’s spray
mingle with your salty tears
and feel the mind fall away...
welcome to where you are
finally...welcome to where you are.

Place your hands upon your heart
and with clarified whispers, speak the words
“I AM HERE”.
2 comments|post comment

[28 Dec 2009|03:07am]

heyyoumissmuse
it's 3am. i am still crying, and you're sleeping.
fml.
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Ocean [27 Dec 2009|04:49pm]

healingdrysuits
Ocean

God cupped her breath of hand
and I, Ocean I, swelled with love
when breath of hand descended from above
and I, Ocean I, swept up to greet it
reached up sweetly, longingly to meet it
and felt the touch
of the open palm
and through this effort
became Wave

I was Wave
and felt the call of Moon
dreamed of white capped rollers
and the shore coming soon
fell in love with liquidity
and this ancient rite of travel
paused when I saw the surf’s edge
and began to unravel
collapsing into the trough
of my own momentum.

I became so many
so effervescent many
and we tingled with the touch
of sand
we danced together
under the moon
on land
I lay upon the Earth
and felt what was left
leave me.

Then God winked at the moon
and she pulled a silken leash
rolling back the ocean
exposing the beach
and I?
I left with the tide.
2 comments|post comment

Kite [27 Dec 2009|04:47pm]

healingdrysuits
Kite

Earth’s breath blows
and I soar
wind’s strength grows
and I roar
with the fate
of the skyborne
earthbound.

Up here,
among clouds found
I see now
looking round
the perfect jigsaw fit
that puzzles from the ground
and I drift with the sound of sing
as God lets out more and more string
oh what wonder is this
how deeply flows
this gusty bliss?

At times
too much
seems to be the rule
and I wonder....how much string
is on that spool?

And I pray for the return
of good and bad
right and wrong
and the gritty feel
of dirt under my fingernails
a train back on the rails
a heavy train,
knowing where it’s going.

God answers the prayer
with more string...
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We've got a rainy Christmas... [25 Dec 2009|01:18pm]

strictlyttaboo
[ mood | calm ]
[ music | Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien - Edith Piaf ]

HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!

Raked in some good loot, I'll have to take pictures when I get home tomorrow. Definitely pleased ^^
Went to the annual Christmas Eve party at my cousin's last night. Not so horrible. Instead of suffering through my bigoted uncle this year I got to talk to my cousins and hold babies. Quite the improvement. Brennan!
Seriously, I watched this guy try to shove his whole fist in his mouth for about half an hour. Adorable.

Have spent most of my time on the computer lately trying to fill up my itunes, as it is a NEW LAPTOP (!) and has nothing on it. Anything you guys would like to share would be greatly appreciated!

I hope everyone's holidays are absolutely wonderful =]

4 comments|post comment

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