a poem (or two) from an anonymous friend

I am not a man who understands the plan.
I do not know where my life will go.

Where will it take me?   Will it break me?
Will I bend in the wind, twisting, turning, leaning, learning...
Slaking thirst in lashing sleet,
Facing worst and finding sweet love beneath
A raging sore tearing core clawing agonizing ache?

...or will I crack apart, my world gone dark, my passion dry dust and sand,
Lost and twisted in the hand that grinds my soul to grit?

Arrogant self, what is larger than me?
Twisted self, what is stronger than me?

Which way do I wish to go?
As I am, a man of "My Way Rules",    ...or
As I am, a man of "...I'm a fool...",       ...or
As I am, a man who walks a razor's edge....

Light and Dark meet, a path is born:
A middle way, left light, dark right, light, night huptwo
I am not perfect, my stride is crude.
Approximately, I walk the middle way.
Options, opinions open before me,
Revelling in my very own muddle way
Intoxicated, I tumble on my face.

How do I do this?
I know how to do this!
What keeps knocking me feet over face?
Why am I sprawling all over the place?
The path has moved!  (...or is it me?)
The fault is proved!  (...outside of me!)
But in my shame, if I blame the path for moving, am I not living a lie?
...and lying, do I not throw my thirsty soul at the hand that grinds
My life to sandy dry, passionless dust?

I need to claim my shameful, festering fault,
And show myself to what can be trusted.
I ached to make my life "My Own!" and lost it in the dust.

Weary, dragging shame around, fencing, blaming the crowds around
Put my pack down on the ground
And be my simple self.

The middle path is larger than me.
Arrogance revealed in the need to say it.
The middle path is stronger than me.
Twistedness healed as I walk its way.

I will trust, as I must to be human - fully human - truly human...
I walk in the dust, drinking rain from my eyes flowing up from my heart,
Fountaining up to cascade down my chin as
I walk the thin line between sunrise and dusk.
...and trust.... and trust....

The path is here.
The path is clear.

Companionship found when blaming's abandoned.
I will not drown in the sand of that hand when
I see an honest thirst in your eyes and we,
Standing still, jagged cliff-gulf between us
Letting the genuine agony be
Walk to each other, each trusting each as
We fill the abyss with the tears of our heart
And swim, each to each, in the passion revealed
Which has healed the rift that tore us apart.

Fountaining, flowing, nourished and glowing,
Flourishing on the lush middle path....
Wisdom gained....
Truth from pain....
New eyes see cliff-gulfs splitting others from us.

Shattered selves, each held apart.
Divisions, fault-lines, cracking our hearts.
The cliffs are between us, within us, the same.
We now know how to play this game.
Truth will hold this flaming sharp pain.
We open our hearts, tears flow from our eyes,
Knowing the truth, how can we do otherwise?

Seeking for honesty, one grain of honesty's
All that we need to meet others with us.
Filling abysses with the tears of our agony
Joyfully flowing from faces of trust.

How do we know what to do now?
Where do we go from here?
What do we do when we already know?
Now that I've tasted, there's no other answer than the
Shatteringly beautiful,
Searingly delicious
Adventure of the middle path.


Lost Bridge

(poem or prose, does it make a difference)

Bridge - Building   101

Picture a Being that knows it is not what it should be.
It doesn't trust God or itself, or anything, really.  It knows it is broken,
and extremely needy.
This Being is starving for Love, for Meaning, for Life.
Every time it grabs for these things, whenever it sees them, they go away, or
die, or disappear, or are destroyed by the grabbing of them.  This Being
becomes convinced that the situation is hopeless - starvation with no chance
for satiation... but it can't help grabbing for meaning in anything that
happens by - this has Life in it!  Grab it!  TAKE IT!

The odd paradox is that this Being can only act this way if there is already
Life in it! ... and yet that Life is denied, for to acknowledge it, this Being
must acknowledge what it is, and it cannot bear the anguish of that
knowledge.  So it denies its own Life, and its own pain, and always seeks what
it is denying elsewhere.

In the grabbing and taking of other Life to consume it, that other Life always
dies... and this Being sets up a downward spiral: by denying what it is, it
creates conditions which make itself worse, always worse, and the anguish of
what it is becomes more and more unbearable... and so this Being becomes more,
ever more desperate.

It doesn't want to be this way.  That is obvious because of the denial.
But inside, it never stops screaming because it KNOWS what it has become...
and it knows that when it feels the stirring of Life inside, it will also feel
the pain of what it is  - unbearable pain that forces it to deny itself and
attempt to consume what it needs from elsewhere.  If what it thinks it needs
doesn't happen to come near enough to snatch and devour, it is compelled to go

This Being has a tortured life ruled by dishonesty, fear, arrogance and

Dishonesty in the denial of self, in the sneakiness of the hunting or luring
of other life to consume, and in the maintenance of an appearance of normality
for the purpose of camouflage.
Fear of feeling its own pain, of the inevitability of the next wave of
addiction, of the judgement of others, and of the self-judgement and
self-punishment which add more pain and worsen the cycle.
Arrogance in the belief that nothing can help it, that no being is greater
than itself which could heal it, and the projection of its own self-judgement
and other beliefs on all others around it.
Hopelessness, continually refreshed by the unceasing maintenance of its own
self-reinforced prison of beliefs and emotions.

This cycle, this downward spiral, can only be countered by consciously,
patiently building an upward cycle.
Gently, by acknowledging the Life within, and the true source of that Life
little by little, the unbearably dense mass of pain can be borne in little

The weapons used in this war are Honesty, Trust, Humility and Hope.

Honestly, this Being needs to acknowledge, "Yes I am not what I was meant to
be.  I am far from it.  I don't want this to be true, but it is."

Trustingly, this Being needs to say, "I can't bear the pain of this existence
alone.  It is too much for me.  All those who are connected to my proper
evolution, who know what I am truly meant to be, help me bear my existence.
Come into my Being and share me with me.  Cry with me.  Reshape me to my true
self, my true heritage.  Show me my next step.  Guide me on my way."

Humbly, this Being needs to say, "I have made mistakes that I don't know how
to correct.  Please teach me.  Show me how to live.  Show me where I am wrong
so that I can know to let that falsehood go and leave room to be taught what
is right.  Show me, breath by breath, how to breathe."

... and this Being needs to have, or plead for, the Hope that all that it
requires will be given it, in time.

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