In a typically M moment, I employ all of M3’s resources to push home a particular thought or theme. The one exception is the sheerly creative pieces. In flipping through my notes while I worked on the finishing touches to the posts for tomorrow (one of which was actually to take this spot), I had scrawled (such a kind word for my scribbling) the word “comet” into the margin.
I saw.
It seemed to pulse beside the text. Against the orderly writing, the tilt and swirl of the word demanded to be seen. I stopped. I read it. I wondered why I had written it. I dismissed it.
I listened.
It blinked again. What was there about this word? My brain failed to grasp. So, I listened. The cogs made contact. I set aside the straightforward, tidy, bulleted words and reached out for something which inherently felt good.
I remembered.
Simply entitled Comet, the poem has been modified once. Its original was written on a napkin during brunch and was subsequently damaged. Memory served for the majority of the lines, and Mantra hopes the seaming blends well enough to the eye and ear.
I realized.
Ultimately, self-realization is about finding out who we really are so we can know happiness when it drops in our lap. Think about the last few years. There have been happy moments which were swirled around you, but for your focus on all else, you hardly noticed them to have memory potential. You were in the wake of the comet.
Rather than break from my theme of not tipping my hand to show you my opinion, I shall leave you with but this cryptic message:
May you listen with your soul,
Feel with your heart,
See with love and
Know conviction.
Ride the Comet.
Comet
The nocturnal breeze has come to claim the warmth of the day.
She draws the life force into her gusts in the spreading night shade.
A comet’s tail traces her path without revealing her destination.
Huddled beneath the waving branches your heart feels her chilling way.
To travel with her, you know a dear fare must be paid.
What price do you put on finding love, ecstasy and satisfaction?
Your wake is littered with fragments, pieces your heart leaves behind,
Entrusted to the careless while you tried to survive the fray.
Each took what they needed; Your altruistic offer extended.
Some took your heart or wallet, others from your mind.
None left behind for you anything to help you keep your way.
You wandered without knowing your revolution intended.
She offers you that for which you toil, but continue to long.
The fare seems precious, but what is it really to give?
Stop sacrificing your dreams to fulfill those who cannot see
How their wants and needs kill your inner heart song.
Walk away from the turmoil and begin anew to live
Without demand beyond returning the love shown to thee.
2001120111056
~~~~~~~~~~
Have you been caught in the wake of the comet? When was the last time you rode the comet?
Mike @
/ February 1, 2012Hopped on the comet 22 years ago. Mostly the ride has been easy. I gave things up to get on. They were all worth leaving scattered behind along the starry path I rode.
… I hope I never get off.
Red
/ February 1, 2012Excellent. Glad I am not the only one leaving the cosmic dust behind.
Raven of Leyla
/ February 2, 2012“Your wake is littered with fragments, pieces your heart leaves behind” I am struck by this line! I left behind many pieces, but I don’t regret nor do I want to miss a moment.
I like your style lady M3’s 😉
Red
/ February 2, 2012Thank you, Raven. You are very much riding the comet! 😉
Let's CUT the Crap!
/ February 2, 2012I did once but the cost was much too high. Guess I now have a fear of heights. Lovely poem.
Red
/ February 2, 2012The balance is sometimes hard to gauge. Maybe, a low flying one will present for a ride.
Thank you,
Red.
christyb
/ February 4, 2012The comet holds the power to move us along and perhaps at a quicker speed than we are ready we are taken along for the ride. Don’t you just love when a word pops out at you and you have to pursue it!!
Red
/ February 4, 2012Yes, I do. When this one was being born, I knew the title in the beginning. And that never happens. I always struggle with what to name things. Always.