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The Geography of a Human Being

'Make Yourself a Map'

Artwork By Mark Powell

Explore yourself

as if you were a cave

Traverse yourself

as if you were a mountain

Kneel down to yourself

and collect yourself as if you were a precious stone

on the roadside, of the journey towards your heart

 

Now, you hear drums in the distance…

A familiar sound…

it’s your heart beating a welcome back song

 

A crack in the mind…

Climb down the shaft

Where you once hid and laughed

Alone expecting predators

Alone hoping for prey

Alone and resisting visitors

That came dangling down to play

 

You sat but made no fire

You rested but had no healing

What is this holding back from the adventure of living

Is it cowardice…?

Or an all too familiar pain saying

“Please don’t leave me?”

 

Go down and harness

those hidden winds, in the hidden caverns;

they are your forgotten vitality

 

Look to find treasures unexpected,

hidden in darkness with things rejected

 

See your fault lines?

hold tight, and the quakes too shall pass

You are always growing and shaking yourself asunder,

whether you know it or not

 

The waves of the ocean

of forgotten promises, broken promises…

they rise and fall, rise and fall

tumbling in all too familiar complaints of who was thrown in

before learning how to swim

“Take back your conqueror notions…” they say

“of traversing in confidence this grand old ocean!”

The rains that flood and bring the freaks

Soon come out to play

Ride through the storm… ride through 

 

No need for an hourglass fort, when the hill is already taken

and there’s nothing left on top to report

when the battle with time is forsaken…

Pithy things to say to an old man in a young fool’s body

Pity stings those who would laugh and tumble for a different hobby, each and every day

Have you enough things to do without really grinding any stone?

 

The waves of the ocean, once again…

washing away footprints, the ones that had to put themselves down

the water dismissing them rightly…lightly…ever so lightly

the waves tumble like opinions...

the spray from their crests amounts only to the height of the lighthouse door

stay safe inside and hope for a sign, of calmer waves on calmer shores

the waves crash like opinions stronger now…

let them be so...

let them be so

 

All grows back to quiet, slows down into sacred silence

The sea breeze, like whispers rolling off the tongue of God, 

compliments the sand dollars

"no incentive, no spare change needed here," they say

everything is always changing microscopic

 

When you have waited for the storm to pass

Sit beneath the tree that grows

from out of that which once hurt...

and in doing so, you will have reached the source...

for you will have sought out your own standing-strong meaning

you will have sought out truth

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The Geography of a Human Being
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