by stein forster
[ Inspired by some playful homework set for me by a friend, Elisabeth. We are challenging our sleepy creativity by acknowledging it. Her subject for me was simply, Understanding, born from my overuse of the word during recent conversation. ]
Trying To understand a dream makes it not. A tree cannot be a carrot. It can only listen. Imagine. Seek to touch common ground. To emote the energy whence they came. But not understand. Or maybe it can.
We can’t though. ( or maybe we can )
We want desperately to be understood. We ache, we depress, we long, we re calibrate constantly to our calling to be understood.
Some better than others. Some worse than others. Some Sam I Am.
With puppy eyes and weeping skies we long.
With a rabbit tear a sweeping fear we tear at reality. We demand. We plead. We battle with creed. We are pathetic with our deed.
As I write. I feel. I articulate for you to ‘see’ but only from the window I call from thee, high on level fifteen. Whispering and blowing petals of me. Into a wind of synchronicity.
Maybe you will maybe you won’t. But the call is made.
We blame. We purse. We breed an ugly curse. It grows and seethes its ghastly sneeze of neediness. Spits and fits on the kitchen floor. A rampant child throwing dishes ‘gainst the door.
What a shame. Blame spewed on the tiles. Wreaking of death. A sticky breath stretching its gaul.
But there’s a breeze. A springtime hue. A lightness an eagles feather knew. As it fell. Arcing its way. To your heart. You pray.
It doesn’t matter it loves. It doesn’t matter it doves.
Let go….let go….of your led kite you so heavily blew. To keep upon high as you. Let it go. Open the draw. The scissors will do. Cut the string. The wire, the spin. Cut it now and grieve awhile. Then ready yourself for a BIG FAT SMILE. That goes a mile. That will never leave you.