THE YURT POEM

 

The light plays a pattern within this dwelling

It dances shadows and light across this circular space

We are each rooted on our mat

Some kneel, some sit cross-legged

Like nomads resting quietly in stillness

The sounds from outside join in

The silent stillness of quiet breathing

An occasional sniffle

A crow’s caw

All amidst the scenery of sound

We are on this collective journey

Consciousness awakening, then crashing apart

As the wind whips the world outside

Death is always waiting

Smack dab next to life

The invisible doorway of death

A turnstile

A revolving door of life and death

Beginning and end

Tears come up from the buried fears

Which sprout up from this mat of mine

This nomadic space

Spirals around and around

As my body spreads outward

From my fears, my butterfly’s cocoon

In a more awakened state than before

I am no longer me kneeling on this mat

I am kneeling on all the mats in this room at once

Meanwhile the fan circulates counterclockwise

And I feel an urgency to reach out my hands

To the women on either side of me

Whatever happened to laying our heads in one another’s lap?

Stroking one another’s hair back in a gesture of solidarity and oneness

Now I am with my sisters in Kabul, Gaza, East Aurora

I want to continue with you all

I want to be held in the cradle of loving kindness

I feel someone’s, something’s arms around me

Like the sky’s winds and air currents

Which hold our earth in a constant, unquestioning embrace

Always

I cannot do life myself

I need you

As I am becoming my true self

Whoever she might be

 

 

 

(Written February 1, 2009 in the Yurt at Healing Waters Mindfulness and Yoga Centre in East Aurora, NY following a weekend Shambhala Meditation Retreat)