Gone Sitting

This afternoon Jan & I are off to sesshin, leaving auntie & the cats in charge of the homestead. This means it is unlikely there will be any additional posts before Sunday evening…

In the meantime here’s something to chew on…

Nothing sings in our bodies 
like breath in a flute. 
It dwells in the drum. 
I hear it now 
that slow beat 
like when a voice said to the dark, 
let there be light, 
let there be ocean 
and blue fish 
born of nothing 
and they were there. 
I turn back to bed. 
The man there is breathing. 
I touch him 
with hands already owned by another world 
Look, they are desert, 
they are rust. They have washed the dead. 
They have washed the just born. 
They are open. 
They offer nothing. 
Take it. 
Take nothing from me. 
There is still a little life 
left inside this body, 
a little wildness here 
and mercy 
and it is the emptiness 
we love, touch, enter in one another 
and try to fill.

Linda Hogan

(thank you Panhala, for the pointer…)