Meditations in Fast Times: 13. Getting off the train

                13.

Getting off the train,
thinking to leave behind the clutter of old ways,
our old, shabby thoughts drift across the platform
and flow up the escalator with us,
flowing amid the general mess
of commingled thoughts and emotions,

—really the wants of the rough and tumble masses—
whose sound has gone out into all lands.

Strive as we might to stay in possession,
sometimes rummaging the lost and found
to reclaim half-baked ideas,
the mobile phone dropped yesterday,
or cans for the recycle,
we miss the small presence,
the unprepossessing gift
that arrives, unasked for,
in the face of the flowering weed
growing out of the blighted cracks
of the forgotten and foreclosed factory;
seeking so much beyond our ken,
we fail to see the ordinary
(still very much noteworthy,
in as much as it is woven into the fabric of our being).

Whether we see it or not,
the weed is, in our time or any other,
and exists to be;
that it purifies the air is beside the point,
but for that we should give thanks.

We struggle forward,
making plans,
rehearsing incoherent speeches,
wrestling with emotions,
but Truth interrupts,
does it not?

Truth is neither of passion or dispassion,
but it constantly crosses our path,
manages to derail all our plans
and frequently sends unwanted messengers,
as if to say:
here I am,
pay attention.

Truth is,
Truth is what happens
when we are making other plans;
time and place cease to matter,
acceptance is all in all.

© 2014 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Meditations in Fast Times: 12. Beginning again

                12.

Beginning again
(beginning from any start or end;
to restart anew)
begins only after sunrise
and only with the willingness
to rise with the sun
into a fresh and unspoiled world,
where every sense,
      every sound,
            every creature,
is a Word that is holy,
and every face is the face of God,
and all are a danceable music together,
held aloft in the spheres
by that most peculiar Pin
of our portal's hinge,
so that we can experience
swinging freedom and flight,
and also safety, at such great height.

Such beginnings only come upon one suddenly,
and only if you believe in a magic
where seeing is believing,
even when appearances are deceiving.

© 2014 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Meditations in Fast Times: 11. Up from the dark

                11.

Up from the dark,
each of us from our own depths,
as if hearing the cry, “Sleepers, awake!” 

Up into the waking state,
and perhaps for an hour,
some part awake, while the rest sleeps.

We enter the train from the platform,
find the patient no longer here,
the passengers unsettled
within their myopic world of media
their gazes held in their hands,
rocking forward toward indifferent arrivals.

Little can be expected of such a day,
unless one is awakened by Genius,
tazed by the Security Guard,
or assailed by the Transient Upstart;
on such days, not even coffee will serve
to jumpstart us to a higher awareness of Life.

Though the lamps are lit,
they are eclipsed by the false day
with its mechanical nudgings and dronings,
and repetitions of soulless activitiy;
our eyes are not prepared for sight
under the burning gaze of a truer Light.

© 2014 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen