By Sometimes deep flows,
sweet and gentle
pulsing through our veins,
into our hearts –
essence of sun
and moon
Sometimes deep comes
roaring, crashing –
an unwelcome guest
until we see him,
really see him –
and he melts, like
a fallen tear.
Deep can come
in a soft pink blanket
and inside this deep
another deep, a secret deep
tender and new.
Or deep can erupt
loud and brash
a procession of trumpets
or a clanging of swords
or spit and fire.
Deep can frighten
even the bravest of us,
flashing its wild teeth,
galloping into our nights.
Deep can come
as a small black dog
with a pink tongue
unleashing inexplicable
affection and gratitude.
Oh, there you are —
There is my heart –
now, I remember…
We go deep here,
walk through its strange woods,
meet its glory and its creatures,
all that we have known
and never known
and forgotten
and remembered.
Here, in this place, we go deep.
———————————–
Written on November 16, 2012
In honor of our IFS Level 3 group, with thanks to every one of you, whose spirit inhabits this poem.
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