Monday, July 28, 2008
First the Ecstasy
First the Ecstasy
First the ecstasy,
then the laundry.
Jack Kornfield
All morning it was laundry—
the endless loads
shoveled again and again
into the waiting maw,
ravenous animal demanding its feed.
And then there were dishes,
piled high as if constructing
a rampart to heaven,
underpinnings of a ziggurat,
and as I scrubbed I wondered
how I had neglected so long
these tokens of my mortality,
cast remnants of my
one time joy.
Though it all I wondered,
when I would again take flight,
when be released
to the blood currents
I know so well.
But then I stumbled on your poem
and knew that this was the place
I was seeking,
the effervescent sea I wanted to sail,
yours the mouth I wished to kiss.
Dorothy Walters
July 27, 2008
First the ecstasy,
then the laundry.
Jack Kornfield
All morning it was laundry—
the endless loads
shoveled again and again
into the waiting maw,
ravenous animal demanding its feed.
And then there were dishes,
piled high as if constructing
a rampart to heaven,
underpinnings of a ziggurat,
and as I scrubbed I wondered
how I had neglected so long
these tokens of my mortality,
cast remnants of my
one time joy.
Though it all I wondered,
when I would again take flight,
when be released
to the blood currents
I know so well.
But then I stumbled on your poem
and knew that this was the place
I was seeking,
the effervescent sea I wanted to sail,
yours the mouth I wished to kiss.
Dorothy Walters
July 27, 2008
