How I see you

Captivating descriptions have a way of creeping into our memory,
coming to rest somewhere within our perception of reality
and forever changing the way we see the world.

For good or ill,
such is the power of word.

Ill-informed and hateful speeches,
said with style,
can color our perception of their intended target
regardless of how effectively our intellect
dismantles the rhetoric.

Visions of inspiration,
no matter how distant,
have the power to uplift,
and vitalize every atom
of whatever subject
poetic syllables touch.

I would like to tell you
how I see you.

I see you as space worth exploring -
dense jungle foliage at nightfall
full of whirring, clicking rustlings and murmurs,
scaring the beejezus out of me
as I push back the first layer of ferns
and put one foot in front of the other,
venturing in.

I see you as unknown territory,
potentially fatal -
full of pitfalls
and absurdly dangerous
when unaware of your own power,
a god-child in infancy
wielding the rattle of salvation in one hand
and the rattle of destruction in the other.

I see you as liquid amber slowly pooling
at the base of the tree of eternal life,
the essence of source itself
just barely beginning to stir,
to become self-aware -
to explore some of the many possible configurations
it might transmute itself into.

I see you,
through shrouds of tears clouding my vision,
denying again and again
the truth of our interconnectedness.
I see you hurling yourself
into the angry fray of delusion,
piercing your own body over and over
in a desperate, ironic attempt to ensure
that you,
and those you love,
will be safe.

I see you bathing your kin in compassion,
cleansing the skin of all those who have transgressed
with tenderness,
with forgiveness...
a restoration of dignity
and an opportunity
to wake up tomorrow
and begin anew.

I see you as potential,
raw and unformed.

We have yet to decide what it is we will do together,
and so our collective consciousness is in gestation:
taking shape
and responding to the stirrings
within each of our individual breasts.

I have seen you come together in aggression,
I have seen you come together in compassion,
and I know which vision I prefer.

I see you as the most magnificent orchestration ever conducted
by the same divine hand
whose gestures have ordered
heaven and earth themselves.
(And that's saying something.)

I see you wasting your time chasing commercials
and arguing over whose turn to change the channel,
and I wonder how long until you wake up
and join me on the other side of this dream.

I see you striving, and yearning, and aching.
I see you stumbling, drunkenly,
with pockets stuffed full of gold,
after paper-dollar dreams.

I see you,
not as many of you as I would like,
celebrating yourselves.
I see your voices raised in song
coloring the sky
and I see your perfect bodies
gleaming naked
underneath the stars.
(That's right: naked.)

I see you,
not as many of you as I would like,
confronting yourselves.
I see you gambling everything on the hunch
that there is something much greater to you
than could ever be printed on a birth certificate
and I see you emerging from that long, dark night of the soul,
triumphant.

I see you,
not as many of you as I would like,
risking it all to be with one another.
I see you gate-crashing the party of compassion
and embodying grace herself
in your gentle strengthening
of this web of life
which supports us all.

I see you,
not as many of you as I would like,
calling

"Foul!"

on those who refuse to play nice
and acknowledge our universal right to be here,
together,
on this planet.

I see you,
not as many of you as I would like,
not waiting anymore.
I see you taking matters into your own hands.

We have already taken matters into our own hearts -
how could we not?

How could we not be broken
by the breaking of every peace treaty,
the rape of every woman,
the bombing of every 'strategic target?'

This is our body begin fucked with,
and we cannot help
but internalize
the damage being done to ourselves.

Likewise,
we cannot help but bear the burden
of those doing the damage,
for they are not other than us.
Our individuality is illusory
and simultaneously real,
for each of us comes as a uniquely differentiated aspect
of the one source.
And so in truth we are one,
and in truth we are many.

Having taken the tragic beauty
and glorious imperfection
of our shared world
into our hearts,
let us now begin the inevitable in earnest:
taking matters into our own hands.

STEP UP

I see each of us with a calling,
each of us a puzzle-piece of source energy,
each of us integral to the whole
and absolutely necessary.

BRING YOURSELF

I see each of us on fire with the truth of ourselves,
enlivened by us-as-life
as it flows through our veins,
each of us sharing our voice,
our dream,
our words,
our dance...
no longer waiting for permission.

I see you as a newborn colt,
standing on shaking legs
just moments out of the womb,
nosing the air to determine
which direction is best suited
for your first attempt at a gallop.

I see you as a distant bird-shadow
gliding across the surface of still water,
not quite identifiable and moving quickly
so that even as I lift my eyes to catch sight of you
I can sense you've already disappeared
into the horizon.

I see you as the stars themselves
which illuminate the sky
and draw together disparate patches of darkness
into one cohesive whole,
allowing me to gaze up
at the whole thing alltogether
and whisper:

"Wow."

*For my grandmother, Lillian