Friday, January 8, 2016

Blessings happen when our unconscious takes the lead

A Book I chanced upon at the Book & Bar book store 
If we step away from our mundane routines, the unremitting logic, stress, and anxiety of our every day lives, we provide an opening for our unconscious to manifest itself and take the lead. If it does, one might call it a waking dream. 

Such a blessing happened to me on New Year's Day while browsing in a bookstore: I have tried to capture the emotional feeling in the following poem:

Four Synchronicities and an Epiphany – 
at the Book and Bar

Synchronicity #1: Jane Kenyon

Browsing at The Book and Bar
I chanced upon a book,
The Best Day the Worst Day, 
written by Donald Hall
about his wife, the poet, 
Jane Kenyon.

She was/is special to me,
not just from serving together
as Editorial Board Contributors
for the Concord Monitor.
It was more than that, 
although we never met:
I felt a strong attraction:
my fantasy heartthrob.

Synchronicity #2: Cancer Treatment

I open the book at random
  to page 96 and read how
Jane was “walking and strong” until
enduring her last cancer treatment:

“When I brought her home a week later
she used a walker; she was broken
and never mended.”

Synchronicity #3: Vietnam

U.S. Napalming Vietnam village: 1972

Continuing with Hall’s quote:
“Weakness, bone pain, neuropathies, delirium, 
and daily vomiting were not results of her disease 
but of its treatment. I thought of the American major 
who [said]… after an assault on Ben Tre in Vietnam, 
‘We had to destroy the village 
in order to save it.’”  

“The analogy is false, because Jane's despoilers 
were not ironic majors but doctors trying to keep her alive. 
All the same, the village of Jane was razed again and again — 
bamboo huts burned down, markets napalmed, oxen 
machine-gunned, wells polluted with blood and offal.” 

Synchronicity #4: “The Sixties”

Here I am on the Mekong River
Vietnam: February 1967
Reading about Jane being razed,
while suffering my own cancer:
being irradiated on a cold slab,
like a specimen on a slide,
Agent Orange’s bad karma
from my tour in the Nam.

Meanwhile, as I take my first sip of  IPA,
Jerry Garcia’s iconic song begins to play:
Driving that train, high on cocaine,
Casey Jones you better watch your speed
trouble ahead, trouble behind”

Bombarded beyond belief, 
my defenses are breeched...

The Grateful Dead are gunpowder
Jane’s medical nightmare the trigger 
exploding flashbacks in my mind 
of the agony and ecstasy of the 60’s
and the sweet nostalgia 
for what could have been.

The Epiphany

My mind is blown away
doors of perception cleansed
 just tasting my salty tears 

Powers of such magnitude –
Suffering, Death, Resurrection–
bombarding me simultaneously
canceling each other out
creating absolute calm: 
I float on white light
 a smile on my face:


The End]
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