Seeker Magazine

AVANT SOUL

Rhapsodies in Words

to reawaken our fascination with the ever-original SOUL

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Ode to a Cookie

(Driving through Life with an Adorable Dog)

NOTE: This piece is dedicated to Randy, desolated friend of the dog, COOKIE.

If you could look into the ineffable mystery of your life
     and completely understand it for what it is,
Would you change it?

There is no greater gift that you can give me
	than to share our lives together 

If you could look into the ineffable mystery of your life
     and totally see it for what it is,
	in all its pieces,
	in all its aching unwholeness
What would you change –

And what puzzle piece would you fish 
     from the ocean that is yourself
To fit back into the pattern and to make yourself complete?

You say you have traveled here before
Funny that you are still reluctant to ask for directions
     from strangers
     inside your heart

We're here – all the pieces of yourself
The separate fragmented voices that make up your map
The jarring routes, exits and freeway entrances
Still taking you for a ride.

Driver, I love you as I have loved no other
And I am just beginning to see your place
     Beyond this world and beyond this time and place
Which has hurled us together, you and I.

Where are we going? Would you like to steer for awhile
While I cry out my secret names and spill open my heart
From which swim a thousand multi-colored fish,
Pieces of the collage I've been afraid and unwilling to name?

Why do you drive so fast? I know you are angry
But really, we are the only ones on the road,
You and I,
And all the other drivers are only fast & furious
Seeking to arrive.

Our destination is here. Come sit beside me
And let out your grief
Which spills in every hue and rainbow cast aside.
It's all right for men to cry, after all,
I've been living with you, and it's work,
A man's world inhabited by beings seeking their feminine side.

In truth, your soul has seen every body and shape
And slept with the multitude of forms that inhabit 
     this terrifying place
And the terror of it all, with all those whom you've held fast
     and held in your grasp
Is how few you've let in, to thoroughly caress what you've defied –

You're neither man nor beast, woman nor goddess,
But a being seeking expression of its complete self
In a world fragmented by half-aspects. Hold me now,
     you adorable fool
And let me in where no angel has truly feared to tread.

Get out of your head and into the streaming colors 
     of your heart
Where in truth I have, and shall ever, reside.

Silly human! 
I've slept with you each night
I've turned endlessly in your restless bed
I ask primarily for you to see me now, as I am,
Not perfect, not without the brilliance of Creation,
For I am your driver and passenger, your motherless child,
I am every part of you abandoned 
     that you still carry inside.

Cookie was a dog. Cherished by her owner
     and hit by a car on the Fourth of July
She was more than a child to her owner, more than a lover,
She was a being: utterly loved and in her passing
     there is unfathomable grief.

When Death whispers your name
     and hints of your soul streaming to the skies,
Will you listen?  Those events you thought accidents,
Those mishaps and mumblings, critical dates
     and functions to which you hurried,
Will you remember that they aren't truer parts of yourself
     from which in haste you have tried to blame, or to hide?

I can only surmise
How it is that humankind can race with such shrieking abandon,
This human race, this outrageous misfortune,
Shaping continents and nations, up-turning 
Your actual years and months and weeks
In a game of hide-and-seek. Got a date?

With destiny that calls your name
With destiny that shouts loudly to be heard
With destiny that practically begs for your attention,
Has to hit you over the head until you collide.

There is no greater gift that you can give me
	than to share our lives together 

Pluto was a bird. A parakeet.
Before you laugh when I tell you
     I loved that bird as I have few others
Remember that it was I who left the back door ajar
Where entered a shiny black cat of Death
     to tear at Pluto's throat
It was the first time I'd seen blood 
     behind emerald feathers of love so fluffy & sweet.

How funny that we can love pets and be undiminished
     in unrestrained and unhesitating embrace
How odd that we can open our hearts so completely
     to pets, yet not for one another.

When Death again speaks your name
     and warns of your soul set freeing to the skies,
Now will you listen? 

What of all those appointments you thought
     so crucial, so spotlessly neat
That you had to drive there, 
     some mindless harpy from Hell,
And damn any other fool drivers who
     could dream to place themselves in your mighty way?

All those events you thought mere accidents
Those mishaps and fumblings, momentous dates
     and functions to which you hurried,
Are they really the finer parts of yourself
     from which with alacrity you scurry, then weigh down with worry?

I speak for myself.
Obviously, you are a sensible driver
Never rushed nor in haste
Never elbowing others, rarely casting them aside.
I do not know you. You do not live in LA,
     And if you did, please then pick me up at 7:00
We can share the carpool lane as I'm running late.

Late for an appointment with understanding,
Late for a dinner date with my compassion,
Late for the patience I tied to a pole in the back yard,
     without water or shade from the blazing heat,
Late for the integration I dropped off at a nearby pound,
For it's easier to put pet peeves in myself
      to death, or neuter them,
Than deal with them, furry legs, lapping tongues
And yapping needs all. And they want exercise, too?

I'm late to treat myself as well as I have loved 
     my most priceless pet. 
What is it you need? Wait. I cannot possibly listen
I'm flying out the door as if the heavens
     must be shoved immediately aside. 

But not too late to listen one last time
Before I commit one final misunderstanding,
     And ignore my faith and my devoted driver,
The ultimate crime. 

If you could crystallize ineffable pieces of your life
     and begin to create yourself complete and intact,
Would you then slow down to hold in your arms
Those parts that you'd furiously sought to eradicate?

Kill the past! Now give up its hold and power.

Now release its vise upon your thoughts of your life.

There are no pieces of yourself which cannot be loved,
     nor realized –
There are no fragmented parts which you cannot face –

Confess! There is NOTHING that can stop you 
     from that focus where you begin to love
The driver, the journey, and the ride
And relish this awful passage
And begin to relate
To every weird fish that swims in your momentary ocean,
To every passerby. 

Of course, not all are to be let in,
     but YES, you can change fate,
To welcome the driver as you welcome yourself
And even let Death in, by and by. How awesome

The journey has only just begun
So that when Death mouths out your name, as if to say,
"I was only trying to get your attention,"
You nod
	– and —
 
at last  —
 
    You abide.

There is no greater gift that you have given me
	than to share our lives together ...

	

	...welcome home!
	
	

Now let's clean up this mess


(Copyright 2000 by Avant Soul - No reproduction without express permission from the author)
Letter to the Author: Avant Soul at darius@cellobliss.com

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