THE INEXPLICABLE UNIMAGINABLE

COMMENTARY

Times in our life when we experience the inexplicable unimaginable. In the poem, I refer to such events as a torrent with "inexplicable unimaginable boulders" "lifted up like feathers." crushing and blinding us. We know now, through our study of the mind and the brain that the powerful energy from these torrents remains with us in the form of survival behaviors, often unconscious. Many unrelated events in the present unwittingly trigger the feelings associated with the torrent, and we react sometimes quite destructively, "Desperately insistently drowning, dragging, Dragging those I love with me down, Down into the torrent that lives now, Flourishes now, Only inside me." We self sabotage precious relationships in the process. We cannot see what is there for us in those we love, only what reminds us of the torrent.

In the poem, the reference to the late hour of the day is a symbol for the late stage in the game, in life. You know, we are all getting too old to suffer what is no longer.

How do I know this poem? I struggle with this "stuff" every waking moment of my life and Thank God, I am healing.

In the photos, you see three pictures of the same wash that is now just a pleasant place for one to sit and meditate. Perhaps a place for a homeless person to find rest at night. The boulders are no longer rushing through, crush blinding anyone in their path. The wash is at peace, is a peaceful place, and brings peace.

And for the record, these are my personal photos, which I "shot" about three weeks ago, having no idea they would be just the right photo for the poem I had no idea would appear yesterday.

THE INEXPLICABLE UNIMAGINABLE

Lifted up like feathers,
These inexplicable unimaginable boulders
Crushed blinded
My three year old eyes,
Leaving me stranded in
This torrent;
Leaving me yearning for
Life’s simple pleasures,
To be held, soothed, rocked, sung to.
Certainly not in the Lord’s plan,
For a three year old.
So why?

At these final hours in the day,
I find myself standing here,
Still, motionless, waiting,
Waiting for more boulders to
Crush blind me.

But I am ready now.
Well protected, well defended.
Of course, angry and still yearning,
Of course, feeling helpless hopeless.
And yes,
I remain here visionless,
No dreams,
Only the constant memories,
Only the resolve to forevermore survive.

A voice taunts me to open my eyes,
My eyes, waiting, ready to see;
Taunts me to move my legs,
My legs anxious, ready to carry me;
Taunts me to give into my knees,
My knees bending falling asking
Asking forgiveness for
Remaining stranded stuck
Long after the torrent has passed.
A voice taunts me to lift my arms
My arms, stretched ready to wrap ‘round
Those waiting ready to love me.

Does the taunting voice know
I will risk seeing the awful truth?
I was not crushed blinded after all.

Does the taunting voice know
I will risk seeing
My inexplicable unimaginable insanity?

Does the taunting voice know
I will risk losing the ground
I have come to call home?

Does the taunting voice know
I will risk seeing myself
Desperately insistently drowning, dragging,
Dragging those I love with me down,
Down into the torrent that lives now,
Flourishes now,
Only inside me?

Does the taunting voice know
I will risk letting slip away forevermore
The inexplicable unimaginable boulders
I have chosen to roll into so many lives?

Certainly not in the Lord’s plan
This late hour of the day
To die
Well protected, well defended,
Angry and still yearning,
Helpless hopeless,
Visionless,
No dreams,
Only the constant memories,
Only the resolve to forevermore survive.

So why?
Why do we hesitate for even a second more?

THE TORRENT LIVES NOW, FLOURISHES NOW, ONLY INSIDE ME

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