immeasurable moments while lost at sea
by Andrea
December, 2015
For this essay I decided to do something different. Having allowed myself to lose some writing momentum, I found myself for weeks feeling lost as to what to write. Sometimes this happens. I sit and wait. Nothing comes. And so in an attempt to free myself of this spell, I tried something out of the box. Early this morning I sat quietly for hours, listening to the awakening silence and capturing words as they appeared on the horizon. Without judgment or direction, the following poem was born. Once complete, I touched it up with a little light editing to give shape and form. It is not about my mother or aging or caregiving. It is about writing and touching into silence. So I end this year with a poem, my first ever. I hope you like it :-) Wishing you all the sweetest happiness for the New Year. With love, Andrea
Sometimes when I sit to write I am confronted by a sense of being lost
Lost for words, lost for understanding
A feeling of being helpless in the sea.
There is no use fighting or demanding that things be different
All I can do is wait
Wait and listen
Listen to the empty space where there are no words
Listen with patience for a word to be born
Wait in the darkness for a glimmer of light
Or no light at all.
Allow the sea to be what it is, calm or not
Allow its current to take me where it will
A will, not guided by my own fractured mind
But a will that summons and calls.
Can I allow myself to be lost in this way?
Can I find the courage to not run away?
Can I listen to a tide that forever speaks?
Sometimes silently, sometimes ferociously
An ever-present tide harboring a will of its own
A will of endurance
A will of eternity.
I come and go, breathing the tides, not knowing my own breath
I touch my toes on a few grains of sand, and feel into their ancient stories
Timelessness is born in time, in that touch, in a moment of completeness
A moment of touch that awakens the day, awakens the heart
Awakens the world.
The universe is born, resplendent in a single moment
A single moment untouched
Unto itself, complete and free
A single moment untouched and free and innocent
Calling.
Forever calling.
I ask myself, how many moments are there in the day?
How many moments have I accumulated today?
How many moments have I spent?
The question, instantly absurd
Revealing a portal to the infinite
A single moment piercing through the veil of time
Calling.
Forever calling.
Awaiting the splendor of touch.
The touch of light upon the formless clouds
Casting pink hue into the morning heart
The delight of a smile of eternal recognition
Awakening to the glory of coming home.
A home at once ordinary and extraordinary
A home that can never be taken away
So long as we listen to its tides with courage
Carried by the currents of its unknown waters
With toes lightly touching a few grains of sand
Whilst eternity runs through our veins.
As long as we are willing to spill words that make no sense
Onto the open spaces of our canvas
Allowing those words to find themselves
The manner of which we have no control
Allowing the center of our chest, the heart, to sparkle with energy
Calling forth all cells to wake up.
Waking up but not moving
Listening to the immeasurable silence
Filling the empty canvas of the day
Allowing the day to unfold
As it will. As it will.