In the Mean Time*
Updated: Apr 5
I know there’s not much left
I’ve done the math, I see
the lines, the sags, I feel
the aches, the pains,
the losses, the gains.
So what to do with this shadowy
in the mean time?
Purple doesn’t look good on me.
Too much yellow in the skin I hear her
say through a white chicklet grin.
I say do nothing to be the light
of your own magnificence!
Quietly rise up within
remembering from where you came.
A watery cave is where we all begin
as we return to the mother from
without and within.
Worship the mystery of who you are
and where you’ll be in the far and far
away place we all call home.
The heart of where we all come from.
Strip the wheat from the chafe
drink the milk so sweet from
the teat of loving kindness.
Let the earth be your mother and
the sky be your father.
Make amends, plant a flower.
Make yourself ready for the final hour.
Then watch the leaves turn in color
as they luxuriate in their own splendor.
*Poem previously published in Depth Insights: Seeing the World with Soul; Issue 9; 2016