Do you want me to tell you the truth,
that everything we think we are,
all the majesty and greatness, the pettiness and sobs,
the words and wordlessness,
the green pastures of our wisdom and the
folly of our misunderstanding,
our sin and our angel wings
are only a hiccup
in the amazing field of awareness?
We are a hiccup.
A blip and a blither.
We are the screen wavering, ready to shut off.
We are the screen before it turns on.
We are the hiccup witnessing itself with utter
fascination, appearing to forget itself,
losing itself in the chest
rising and falling for
maybe eighty short autumns.
When awareness finally stops hiccuping,
will it go chasing another bout?
AYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
Did I scare you?
Good.
Did your hiccups stop?
Who were you in the moment between hiccups?
Can we feel the answer before the next breath,
before the diaphragm jerks again,
before we try to stop,
before we surrender fully to the next
unscheduled and unplanned–
hiccup?
All we are is dust in the wind…
Who were you in the moment between hiccups?
In that stillpoint I was radiance…getting ready to shine brightly through the next hiccup
Thank you, Nicole and Laurie. Dust in the wind is another way of looking at it, Nicole! And I love that radiance that you describe, Ms. L. I wrote this poem sometime in October and couldn’t get it quite right and was ready to discard it today but decided it might be enjoyed or spark awareness in someone, even though it was a hiccup of a blog.
I think I’d rather be a hiccup in the process of life rather than the burp . . . or the other one . . .
Barbara, ha! Now wouldn’t THAT have been the blog to write? Nope, couldn’t do that…our egos would have completely fallen apart.
Barbara – You’re cracking me up in the midwest this morning
Whatever I might appear to be is an appearance that cannot be trusted. I simply cannot trust anything that I might perceive or conceive.
Jonathan, I agree with you. and your words are very helpful this morning. Thanks for visiting and leaving some of your spirit here this morning.