Do you know elephants?
The deep bonds they form,
matriarchal, led by the largest,
all caring for the youngest together.
Do you know elephants?
Memories span years, not to be forgotten.
And compassion, they grieve, cry tears,
play and paint if given the freedom.
Not what you would expect from
something so grey.
We came to your door, my elephant
and me, because we heard you welcome all.
You see, my elephant and I don’t fit most
places, don’t meet traditional demands.
We took a chance, my elephant and me,
stood at your door, suitcase in hand,
ready to share with abandon, finally be
fully received, me and my elephant.
We waited and watched, but discerned
your sign slyly drawn. Not lettered large,
but your splatter rang clear,
“Strictly No Elephants” allowed.
You made up rules
set down by what should be
only because it has always been,
without a thought to elephants.
You mustn’t know elephants,
I am sorry.
I surely must move those
leaves to their proper rest
before flakes, surely not allow
them to stay where footsteps
will grind together snow and
leaves to become a musty cake
making an impossible run.
There are rules I must follow
to keep my path clear, ready
for its pilgrim to walk safe
Yet, I ask if rules are a good
matter to seek my attention,
give over my time. Rules beget
more rules until rules are all
that cover what was once a
simple way, now made less clear.
Instead I listen, start inside
with a whisper, learn who I am
from the Source. And I see a path,
simple and true, still covered with
leaves and snow. Only then
can my hand stretch to yours.
Together we will divine our way.
If you would like more on this poem, please visit my page Journey/lex.
This week I thank Ryan Taylor of Access Denver for his reflection, in Street Psalms’ Word From Below, on the reading from The Revised Common Lectionary. And a sincere thanks to Fr. Scott Jenkins from a Church of the Holy Family for his prayers and the Beatitudes that will be read in the Celtic Celebration of All Saints this coming Saturday. All are welcome to join us in our celebration.
What always works better, for me anyway,
I overheard things you would never say,
it’s hard to trap something.
In fact, nothing is off limits, I suppose,
There are many rules.
There are no rules.
NaPoWriMo Day 21. An erasure poem.”Our prompt for today (optional, as always) is an old favorite – the erasure! This involves taking a pre-existing text and blacking out or erasing words, while leaving the placement of the remaining words intact.”
I couldn’t get the spacing right so it appears just as a regular poem. But I used an article about writing poems from Writer’s Digest in Poetic Aside by Robert Lee Brewer, 5 Ways to Write A Poem. What fun.