The Moving Image: a record of a meditation

 

Source  (elongated Rodin's hand)

I walk around a tree with 5 branches,

each stretching up one hand to the sky-world.

In the center of the tree’s massive trunk

an open eye watches me—turns around

the trunk to keep me in its sight—or am

I the tree eyeing my un-rooted self?

 

5 hands: one holds boxes stuffed with papers to sort;

two holds a bed to make and clothes to hang;

three holds individual people to meet;

four holds a cat and meeting for worship;

and five holds a novel-length book unwritten.

My inner chant, “I am here, I am yours,”

 

changes to “Do less, be more.”  I wonder

why each hand holds a different action?

Why couldn’t all five hands hold the same thing?

And if they could, what would that activity be?

The action speeds up—everything rotates

Around the tree while grandmother's voice sings

 

“When a door closes, a window opens.”

I remember her saying this, and me asking

“Can’t the window close and door open?”

”I am here, I am yours.”  “Do less, be more.” 

Anyway you want it, baby, you have

a room with a view, a room with a key.

 

I choose that each hand will hold this room

complete with paper, boxes, bed, clothes, and

an affectionate cat.  Here I will write

a—finished (or unfinished)—book or two.

Here memories, wishes, dreams, worship, and

individuals all extend their support.

 For poetry month day 6.

My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright.

© 2023 Susan L. Chast