Poem: Time Travel
Time Travel
and Jager’s gentle comments
to the deck
this spring evening.
looming
round
reach me: their
breath
song
intangible touch
enters.
Two geese squawk,
flying low across the evening.
I breathe.
And again,
breathe:
the self I am not
saved by the Self that is.
Spent, I take
two friends: a mystery volumeand Jager’s gentle comments
to the deck
this spring evening.
In a while
three maple treeslooming
round
reach me: their
breath
song
intangible touch
enters.
I let go my book.
I listen, look.Two geese squawk,
flying low across the evening.
I breathe.
And again,
breathe:
the self I am not
saved by the Self that is.
My thanks to Mary Teresa, poet and long-time member of our Des Moines Meditation and Mindfulness Group. The book she references is "Mysticism for Modern Times: Conversations with Willigis Jager," one of my all-time favorites.