To Touch The Passing Sky

Come sit with me a spell
on the bank of this river
of mystery and madness....
Lets ponder in silence,
What its all about?
This world of gaping wounds and hate,
And where are we in the cauldron
of brewing kindness and cruelty?
What are we stirring,
what ingredient do we contribute
to the healing or the poison?

Dangle your feet with mine
over the rocks of our souls journey
and just let the river run.
Feed me with morsels of breath and word,
nurture me with the full blown rewards
of your years of sowing...
like swollen breasts full
with the milk of learning....
let me lean there for a spell,
on the cushion of your chest.

Draw me close and rock me against
the darkness of my terrors,
those deep and twisted false assumptions
with the power to break wings and hope.
Give me your hand
with its invitational gift;
your command to rise and fly
to touch the passing sky.

Reviews

[Sean Allen]

A very pleasing poem full of pleasing thoughts. I am impressed.

[Coyote Poetry]

A beautiful poem of hope and peace. We need to find calmness and quiet to clean-up our minds and go forward in a life. I like the ending. I would like to fly and touch the sky. A excellent poem. Thank you.
Coyote

[Desert Dreamer]

I will sit with you by the river "of mystery and madness" to contemplate these questions, especially this one,
"What are we stirring,
what ingredient do we contribute
to the healing or the poison?"
I often sit and ponder alone and would enjoy the company. Your writing is beautiful and strong and has drawn me into it.

[mysticgmekeepr]

Thank you Emily & Ed...wish we could huh? Sit a spell, laugh a little, love a lot, for truly, "how often are we actually seen". You are a gift!

[Emily B]

I would be glad to sit with you any day. I come to the river often to sit on the bank and watch the water flow by . . . I appreciate the invitation.

[Ed Hart]

i never was worthy of any good thing...it can only be that some few are singled out with such an abundance of grace and given the power of speech for the larger purpose of the creation, and we hold to that by gratitude...in you i find a perfect friend, and gladly come to this river bank, for how often are we actually seen