Saint Julian Press Poet
Fred LaMotte - Author and Poet
MORNING
MEDITATION
Dawn sitting, I do nothing but listen:
surely the Canada geese will arrive.
It seems I have never heard better news
about the universe.
A raindrop allows silence before and
after
to annihilate the world.
A robin pierces the space between suns
because she lets go of her songs as she
sings them.
The infinite value of now is a
worthless copy
one moment later.
Precious sorrow is a jewel this
instant,
but a poisoned brooch
when I pin it to my chest.
More radiant than diamond my pain,
because I drop it in the
pond of forgetting.
Like a hobo, breath wanders, letting go
of the stories people try to pack in
its sack.
I lift up a mysterious cup of
celebration from my belly button,
spilling stars into my
heart.
They ferment into wine, the nectar that
makes Jesus drunk;
I pour it on the
alter of my forehead.
I share my secret instruction only with
the hummingbird:
"Don't wait to be anointed; anoint
yourself!"
That is how we become little ones with
invisible wings
and luminous infra-red
throats.
Andromeda, Virgo, twin spiral Hydra
nebulae,
come down like deer to the crown of my
head.
They drink from the wells of my temples
and feast in the wilderness of my
nerves.
What I am this morning is miraculous
medicine.
I am a healing potion swirled from
in-gathered galaxies,
from glittering perishing moments of
insignificance
and surrender.
Drink from me; be not one moment old.
The stem of my grail is rooted in dark
mycelia.
The more you take, the more I am
replenished.
Fred LaMotte
Copyright 2013
Interfaith Chaplain
The Evergreen State College
Olympia, WA
Poetry Site: http://thebelovedwithin.blogspot.com/
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