Poem by Christmas Frahm
Image by Amy Bertrand
While being in the forest fair
I was in the mind to meditate
and think of things to contemplate
so first came birdsong loud and clear,
the notes coming quick and melodious to my ear
but they did not stick like fingerpricks
they went plick and plick away
I needed something more substantiating to take notice of this day
so I took a seat and rested against a mossy boulder’s base
and while there I learned of humbleness and grace
and a tininess of place for me in the world of me-ness or lack thereof.
some would call it ego death some would call it abundant love
the feasts are laden and tables set with food aplenty
waiting for one to arrive
all derived from the act of
staring at a speckled rock which I had been sitting on
this rock was bedecked with moss and seemed to have a face
I could not seem to place?
it seemed to have the wisdom of all rocks into one
saying erode, erase, renew, replace
love, peace, and justice for every one
then the scene seemed to morph for me to that of a speckled rock
with moss bedecked upon its surface
with nary a face to be found upon its groundworks
I frowned in concentration wondering where the inkblot had fled or had led
questioning and being happy in my continual seeking I smiled and kept on my journey
knowing I would always keep the questions burning brightly in my chest
to divest in the quest for questions is the worst sort of test
I would seek and be perpetually piqued
by interest and by imagination
to be fired up about creation
for it is Holy every day made new
a gift for me and you
be part and be parcel of it
unwrapped alongside you
