Sunday, February 9, 2014

Eternal Energy

Our energy is like pollen that we spread to all around us;
Some may open to receive it, and some turn away.
Some can't accept what we offer, as it is foreign to them;
These may remain as our neighbors, but never as family.

Not all around a mighty oak are destined to become trees,
And not only the trees are needed to complete a forest.
Even the duff that's produced by the oak's decay
Is important to sustain the life it, again, becomes.

The only caste system in any culture is imagined;
Neither ants, maggots, nor termites are untouchables.
They are simply the workers that we don't often see,
Refreshing energy for newly formed earthly life.

There's no new energy; it is all Alpha and Omega.
The Spirit than was in the beginning is now and forever.
It is our human duty to shelter The Sacred Spirit
In ourselves and in our family's holy home.

There are those who wish to possess your seeds.
They are the ones who cannot allow any pure beauty,
Without owning and controlling it for their own pleasure.
These will destroy a full forest to build their own beds.

We must be careful to whom we open ourselves.
Is their dust around us pollen or poison?
We must also be careful with whom we share,
As some wish to hoard our Sacred Spirit in a cage.

They will cut us off from the roots that feed us,
And when we wilt and die, they will replace us.
We can only pray that the joy we've given
Will become sacred energy in other's memories.

I was once a mighty oak, in a thriving forest,
But I continued to have branches pruned,
And poisons poured around my roots.
But the poison poured didn't kill all of me.

Two of my acorns lived to sprout in new soil;
By others in the forest, they have been taken away.
When I see them sheltering their own small trees,
And I am overcome with gratitude for their grace.

I weep for the forests that are not nurtured;
Where every leaf that falls is quickly taken away;
Where no care is taken in grafting and pollinating,
And the tiny trees are too crowded to thrive.

I wish that my body could be put upon a pyre,
And set out in the shade of a huge oak tree.
Birds feast on my flesh and bones enrich the soil,
This would seem perfect recycling for my energy.

Or take my body out on my much-loved lake,
With my friends and family in my funeral boat.
Mark the spot where I am placed in the water;
The crabbing will be very good here.

I lived to laugh, love, and leave an impression.
Sing; dance; eat; drink; laugh until you choke.
I see nothing sacred about sadness,
And you will never be free of my energy. HaHa!

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