I am old
This life is old
These bones are old
These thoughts are old
These fears are old
These hopes are old
These dreams are old
From where might come something new?
I have searched the horizon
For a glimpse of hope, from anywhere
My ship to come
A rescue plane to pick me up
From this desert isle
“This is Radio Majo – Come in, come in – is there anybody out there?”
I am giving up
There is nothing out there
But the ghosts of my life past
The phantasms of my wandering
In this landscape of broken dreams
Giving up…
Giving up…
But what is this?
When I give up
Something rises…
When I give up
Something rises…
When I give up
Something rises…
I have become so empty
Empty of hope
Empty of the will to try
Empty of sails on that so-empty sea
Empty of a dream of what might come
Empty of what I thought was me
I have become so hollow
So transparent
So lacking in mass
That my empty has turned to light
My empty has turned to light
This gentle breeze
Stirring beneath my hollow limbs
Lifts me – oh so slightly
Up
The golden sun, which shines on
Nothing that I want
Begins to shine
Through me
I have become
So empty
So hollow
So transparent
That the breeze lifts me up
And the light fills me up
My being in this world
So exhausted
So used up
So empty
That I am become
A being of light
Like no one I remember
But one I recognize
Was hidden, covered
So encased in doing
‘Til I could do no more
I will continue to give up
Life will teach me how
It’s one more thing I will not do
In this empty, used up
Hollow, radiant now
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1 comment:
Recently, there was a presenter at Jubilee by the name of Peter Kingsley. He's an internationally known author and speaker who investigates the reality vs non-reality phenomenon. He's written 3 books, one of which is called "Reality". His traveling to Asheville to present his thoughts on the topic of our class with Mojo, is another example,to me, of synchronicity.
Anyway, this poem describes the Winters of our lives when we have no rutter and no firm ground,great sorrow and despair.Perhaps we've all had those emotions to varying degrees, but when Mojo writes "When I give up, a thought arises
it reminds me of something John said in his presentation. He said "In the depths of depression, look for the pearl."
What are your first thoughts on that? Is he crazy to write of something he's only experienced as the tip of the iceberg? We can never know the extent of someone's suffering - is his Rock Bottom like mine...or yours?
I think Peter would do well to read this poem of Mojo's - are they on the same page? Perhaps there is a pearl...but is there a pearl for everyone?
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