Please Tell Them This

Posted by in Gratitude Corner, Poetry Circle

PLEASE TELL THEM THIS

 

Upon my return from a yoga and art teacher training, a few weeks ago a woman asked me to support her bedridden father. Her father lived the life of a cowboy in Arizona. He is also a poet and environmentalist.

When I arrive at his bedside, the cowbow-poet is usually asleep so, we breathe together. I have seen him three times and each time we go on very vivid adventures; in some unknown realm we ride horses, lie in the grass and I even got a fly fishing lesson. The adventures are vivid indeed full of sensory impressions like I can sense and imagine the temperature of the air and water, the moisture of the ground, I can feel the breeze on my skin, I am moved to tears by this man’s love of life and I wonder… I wonder about the quality of his presence, I wonder about his ability to connect with nature, I wonder about his life as poetic experience , an experience of communion and intimacy . From his bed, moving in and out of consciousness this man is cracking my heart open, he is revealing to me the life I dream of …

My years of practicing Reiki mainly with horses has taught me the importance and power of letting go of agenda and finding center  to allow spirit to do it’s work but I cannot help myself, I am wishing with all my being for this man to come back to a healthy life. I imagine that the sensory quality of the images/experiences indicate an incredibly nimble mind trained in advanced shamanic or yogic traditions… images so real, images that heal and have the potential to mend, anything, everything..

So when the cowbow-poet’s daughter asks me if I think he is ready to die I have to say: the clarity of his imaginal  world makes me want to say no but the timing is really between him and God. She then asks me if I could write down some notes after each session, a little like a doctor would  and that she would like to share them… Who would you like to share this with? I ask. So she names a couple of people and …the lawyer. Having already sensed some tension between family members and different care givers needless to say my little alarms bells were ringing… I am so so weary of interpreting, I observe, I track, I follow. I am a channel and student.

As I am asked what does the cowboy-poet want or need, I find myself walking a tight rope aware that any word I utter or any image I reveal has the potential of tilting the hopes one way or another.

I ponder how best to respond … and then it comes to me, art!

I journal my own process through writing and drawing so why not?

The aesthetic response as soul to soul dialogue that leaves space for spirit to move unencumbered by our need for answers letting love and compassion flow.

 

Here are words that came to me in my morning meditation unedited, authentic and vulnerable…to the glory of Creator:

 

PLEASE TELL THEM THIS

We are the birthmothers

Here

Let us accept graciously

The gift

Of birthing

The miracle of life

Let us let go of our agendas

Rising of fear and unforgiveness

And accept the gift of the golden eagle

Into our hearts

As honoring of

Transformation

As a butterfly

Incarnating before our eyes

The mystery

The greatest mystery of all

The weavings of a new robe

Made of golden strands of love

Timeless

Ubiquitous

All love surrounds us

To connect to each other in love

Hold the basket of this dear planet

Its beauty

The montains wild creeks at night

Cold sunsets

The same mountains creeks nights run through us

The same beauty runs through us

The beauty of the world offered

Through another’s loving eyes

As reflection of who we are

Just love

Just love me

Let go of trying just be

In beauty with me

Magic runs through

My greatest gift to me

Is you receiving me

Dancing with me

As lovers do

Into the light of life

This is eternity

one moment

In your eyes lost and found again

I see me

Washed renewed

Glorious happy

Beyond words

My breath between the trees

As the silence between the words

I glide upon you

As fingers lightly through your hair

Silky threads rippling like water

back to the pond

I swim in your fragrance

Between the trees

Between the words

Between you and me

I find us free

And when I die I want  to take with me the beauty of it all, having healed the wounds and forgiven so I remember to fly through the One Heart. Onto greater cycle where love prevails.
So I send an invitation to anyone called to support the ” re-birth” of this loving man. If you feel draw a simple prayer of your pure awareness to the presence of Universal Breath that whispers in the breeze. Perhaps you will meet him there, the cowboy-poet somewhere on the range or waist deep in the river and I am sure he will greet you with the smile. In gratitude and awe of the one who loves nature and is held by her. Imagine, taste, smell and delight for a moment the vibrance of eternal life that flows from the snowy peaks through the bones….
With gratitude for the bedside teachings of the cowboy-poet,
Sat Nam, Love and True Identity

Andree