My
DNA results came in.
Just as I suspected, my great great grandfather
was a monarch butterfly.
Much of who I am is still wriggling under a stone.
I am part larva, but part hummingbird too.
There is dinosaur tar in my bone marrow.
My golden hair sprang out of a meadow in Palestine.
Genghis Khan is my fourth cousin,
but I didn't get his dimples.
My loins are loaded with banyan seeds from Sri
Lanka,
but I descended from Ravanna, not Ram.
My uncle is a mastodon.
There are traces of white people in my saliva.
3.7 billion years ago I swirled in a cloud of
hydrogen,
dreaming of a planet overgrown with lingams and
yonis.
More recently, say 60,000 B.C.
I walked on hairy paws across a land bridge
joining Sweden to Botswana.
I am the bastard of the sun and moon.
I can no longer hide my heritage of
raindrops and cougar scat.
My mud was molded with your grandmother's tears.
I was the brother from a rival tribe
who marched you to the sea and sold you.
I was the merchant from Savannah
and the cargo of blackness.
I was the chain.
Admit it, you have wings, vast and crystal,
like mine, like mine.
You have sweat, dark and salty,
like mine, like mine.
You have secrets silently singing in your blood,
like mine, like mine.
Don't pretend that earth is not one family.
Don't pretend we never hung from the same branch.
Don't pretend we do not ripen on each other's
breath.
Don't pretend we didn't come here to forgive.
Artwork: Tree of Life by Tamara Phillips.
This poem will appear in my new book, 'The Nectar Of This Breath.' It has been published in the Tiferet Journal and in two anthologies, 'Inspiring Forgiveness' and 'Poems of Mindfulness' in Korean.
2 comments:
This is the bomb. Great poem. I have moved from synchronicity to simultaneity. There is no difference. The Universe is complete. Perfect. Immutable. The last line took me by surprise. Forgive implies a mode of movement from one state to the next. And that is the human dilemma. We feel lack, need, striving.. Forgiveness in this poem is the release. The easing back. The acceptance. We used this poem in our Sangha. " I can no longer hide my heritage of raindrops and cougar scat."
Thank you much! I am honored that your sangha used this poem. Other sanghas have as well. I was told that Stephen Levine read it at a Buddhist retreat at Esalen Institute. It will be published in my new book, The Nectar Of This Breath. Thank you again.
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