Around the Corners of Reason

you,

you are;
you are what I cannot write,
the thought I cannot have or hold,
although I breathe your very breath,
driven, as it is, from the outermost edges of imagining
and all that precedes thought, knowledge and movement.

if I can see you, touch and taste you,
I do not know it—
so near, and also so far, are you,
apprehension is fleeting,
clouded by delusions
passing around the corners of reason.

perhaps my only truth:
compared to you,
I am an insubstantial mystery of life,
spindrift on your elegant shores of expression;
you, who are without craving or curiosity,
you are indeed the fullness of time.

surely, my feeble cries of longing
add only nominally to the perpetual white noise
that spins about your profound silence,
but I pray that my effort is somehow felt
within that great science of mind
that lies beyond knowing
and sense.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Some Cures For Post-Election Indigestion

We take a break from poetical reverie and social commentary to mark an important day. It is ELECTION DAY in the United States. Democratic process is being... er... processed. That is to say, those who are eligible and registered to vote can, for the most part, cast their ballots--that is, make their choices and wishes known unto all the electorate.

I say "for the most part" because this country is not completely unlike others, in that there are nefarious efforts underway to ensure that many people who are eligible and registered do not have the opportunity to make their choices known. It should be illegal for any State government to issue laws within the last four weeks leading up to an election, much less at the last minute, adding ridiculous rules about how voters must prove they are eligible and registered.

All I can say is this: VOTE EARLY! If you live in a swing state, I feel your pain. If you are a voter who is among the marginalized or threatened, I pray for you on this day. I pray for all of us. 

VOTE.

Then go have a drink. Or two. (Responsibly and not alone. Cabs are standing by).

Tomorrow, no doubt, we will be UNITED as a NATION of people who have POST-ELECTION INDIGESTION, of one sort or another.

To ease BELCHING and FLATULENCE, brew an infusion of chamomile, peppermint and balm, in equal parts. Drink a cup before eating (if you are up to it), three times a day.

To ease CONSTIPATION, decoct 2 tsp to a cup of water yellow dock, dandelion and aniseed. Drink three times a day.

If you drank too much on Tuesday night (and for the many months preceding, or even years), you might have been contributing to CIRRHOSIS of your precious LIVER! So, get out your tinctures of milk thistle, 2 parts to 1 part each vervain and dandelion root. If these are alcohol based, for HEAVEN'S SAKE put them in hot water so the alcohol will evaporate away from the herbal component! (Don't add insult and further injury!) One Half TSP of this mixture, 3 times a day.

If you are JUST PLAIN PISSED OFF, you might need to slow down with some good old fashioned barley water.

BARLEY WATER

4 to 5 oz. whole barley

4 pints boiling water plus 1 cup

rinds and reserved juice of 2 lemons and 4 to 6 oranges

natural sweetener, to taste (honey, agave nectar, natural sugar, maple syrup)

tiny splash of rum (unless you are working preserving your liver)

1. Gather your lemons and oranges. Cut them in half and squeeze the juice into a bowl. Fish out any seeds, of course. Set aside the juice. Cut up the rinds in to strips or hunks and set aside; no precision necessary.

2. Throw the barley in with 1 cup of water into a quite large pan. Bring this to a boil for about 10 mins. Remove from the heat and strain the liquid off, rinsing the barley. (This is merely to cleanse the barley.)

3. Return the barley to the pan with 4 pints of water. Add the rinds of both lemons and at least four oranges (this mostly depends on the size of your pan).

4. Turn up the heat until the liquid is simmering. Continue simmering your emotions and your barley for either one hour or at least until the barley is completely soft. Pull the pan off the burner and let heat diminish to lukewarm.

5. Strain your barley liquid into a pitcher you can cover, discarding the rinds and barley.* Add the sweetener of your choice, to taste, and the reserved juice, along with the splash of rum (not for you LIVER people...)

Drink a cup at meals.

Barley water is supposed to help lower blood pressure and regulate digestion.

Queen Elizabeth II drinks barley water at every meal. 

Of course, she doesn't have to deal with the stress of general elections, does she?

_____

* You may want to squeeze the liquid out of the barley. I keep an empty flour sack in my kitchen, that I use for drying washed greens and beans; that would be an admirable tool. After straining the liquid into your pitcher, place all the remaining material in the bottom of your flour sack, twist and squeeze! Then dump the remaining pulpy mess into your green waste disposal container, or (better yet!) compost pile.

N.B.: You know I am not a doctor, and so these are soothing recipes for the nerves. Further, I am tongue-in-cheek-facetious; I do not advocate drunkenness.

Mulling -- 1. Tea Way

It’s that time again,
and because all this takes time,
best to first brew a cup of tea.

Tea is first a vegetable,
then a medicine,
a meditation,
a poem.

To brew,
first clean the house,
cut the wood,
catch the stream,
lay the fire and light it,
then boil the water.

Set a flower
in a vase,
bowing to its smile.

Sweep the path,
from the gate to the house,
then call a silent invitation:
come, o my soul, come.

Enter in the gate,
follow the path,
your steps leaving no trace,
and enter at the little door.

Join yourself, seated.

Scoop tea into a warmed pot,
then add boiled water,
whisking lightly.

Contemplate as you pour,
meditate as you sip;
drink in the color and scent
of the bending and flowing flower.

First cup blesses thirst;
Second cup melts loneliness;
Third cup reads the book of unfolding;
Fourth cup chases fear out through the pores;
Fifth cup warms and clarifies;
Sixth cup is uplifting;
Seventh cup casts the lifted spirit onto the wind.

Ah, wherever I am,
am I here?

Indeed, it is so,

and that is a poem.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

N.B. This is not intended to be apt description of an actual Asian tea ceremony.

On The Beach

for H.M., my birthday twin

Footprints in the sand,
cool air in the lungs,
could you let it all go as a song
and just be done?

Breezes fly in your face,

Zephyr gently teasing
—not to challenge or confuse,
but to brighten with a kiss.

Sand, beneath your feet,
falls away, unstable;
waves take care to undermine,
and you sink deeper.

From here to where?
All seems so unclear;
how much can we bear
of fog and rolling tear?

When you look back,
your trail is wiped away, gone,
as if it have never been;
it is time to move on.

You take a cautionary step;
the sand molds to your foot,
the sand holds you up,
yet is flexible about you.

And as a gentle rain comes,
to bless and receive you,
a light dawns within:
I am the way forward.

The shifting sands,
the flowing waters and winds,
they work with you, for you,
O Mother of Invention.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

In the Garden of Delights: 4. Fault Lines

There, where you stand,
wherever you are,
there, unique fault lines lie;
the ground beneath your feet
is a monument of instability.

You and your kind
think in straight lines;
such do not exist,
not here, not anywhere
in this garden or beyond.

There, where you stand,
the ground is, nevertheless,
where you begin and end
your journey through now,
an experiment in ertia.

When the earth quakes and
the ground opens below you,
this signals opportunity
for movement, growth and change;
be not afraid—move and be free.

Your feet straddle an eternal gap
between the illusion of what is
and the limitlessness of possibility;
your heart hangs in the balance
between all past and future nows.

There, where you stand,
Wherever you may be,
you are the liquid catalyst for change
—the fault lines are your garden;
have a care, mind the gaps.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen 

In the Garden of Delights: 3. Cuach

I have made thee,
given thee two arms
a vessel to have, to hold, to be,
to rise up, cast by and keep from harms.

Ye, I have filled,
be therefore a loving cup,
overflow with love, be spilled,
for this needy world, so hard up.

Mouth wide for song,
voice alive with vibrance;
the world to which you belong
needs your care, love, and guidance.

Centering from the calm,

I cast this oath: observe!  
I pour you out to be a balm;
not to own the world, but to serve.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

In the Garden of Delights: 2. The Invitation

Whispers
in the wilderness:
a Voice.

like warming flame
flowing in a mirage,
calls,
reaching out
from the unknown
like the sunrise at dawn.

Come,
O come,
BE with me.

—[eyes open,
the slumberer awakes,
the recumbent one rises,
feet move forward,
step by mindful step,
heeding the beckoning call]—

Come,
I long to
refresh you.

—[forward momentum,
over trackless desert,
jagged tumbles,
deepest impressions,
and craggy peaks,
listening, listening]—

Come,
it calls,
the still voice.

the way,
it is crooked
and hard,
but I will make it
clear for you,
all will be made plain.

Come,
O come,
my friend.

when you arrive,
glad will be
the desert,
the rough places,
the bees,
the flowers,
and I.

Come,
let us be
together,
to shout,
to sing,
to love,
to rejoice,
to delight
in pure being.

Come,
that is all,
just come.

Celebration
awaits. 

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

This entry actually appeared here in 2010, but I realized yesterday that it needs to be part of a cycle I am writing now!