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Post subject: Discovery Island
 Posted: Oct 15, 2006 - 01:04 PM
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Jiwa Dancer
Joined: Oct 15, 2006
Posts: 18
Location: Langley, British Columbia, canada
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This is a longish poem i wrote after a few of us subud "oldies" or "subudites" from Canada and Australia got together for a week this summer on a remote island off the British Columbia coast. Enjoy
-Sjahari
Destination Sound
we sit around we
sit in a circle we
stand on hardwood floors in socks and
bump into each other and we listen
to each other and for
each other
and to gulls high
in an endless sky.
we are the old guard
we are the ancient ones
we came at the beginning
we are here at the end
we are the subudites
the bapakists
the cultists
the deluded ones
with greyed hair
in kayaks,
on old forest trails
in water, on water,
in circles
noone knows how many
circles within circles
sevens upon sevens and divided by seven.
we are the subudites
who are still here
the deluded ones
in my kayak that afternoon,
paddling alone
I am followed by a dolphin
breathing behind me,
when I turn stretching to see him
behind me he is gone
don’t ask me how I know a dolphin was there
if I didn’t see him.
don’t ask me how
I know he was there.
we had an invisible
relationship
a deluded one
a brainwashed one,
I paddle on soft waves to
a distant island
with an old friend
me in an orange sunset kayak
his, grass green
on calm water
at the edge of the rock
on clear water,
he sits silent and alive
waiting
waiting
knowing that something is coming
waiting for his knowing
until
high so unbelievably high
directly
so perfectly directly
above him
so straight and above him
coming out of nowhere
unannounced
from a distance of
a thousand miles
from the tip of the southern hemisphere
arises the high high cry
of an eagle.
circling him
circling
circling
seven circles around his head
seven circles around his soul
seven circles around his beautiful body
marking him
forever because
he is an old one
a deluded one
four of us
land our kayaks just before the rapids start
clamber out in a huddle
and start hiking over a pass towards
the rapids
suddenly one of us is crying out
harsh shrieking pain
like a blacksmith’s iron searing
her arm, her neck, her abdomen
ten hornet bites in a row
we abandon this trip
and head back to our lodge to heal
but we haven’t abandoned the journey
no. not for hornet strings
because
we are the subudites
grey and old
in front of the late fire
we dance
tell poems and know that
we have all been here from the beginning
and will be here to the end
like that family of dolphins
when the tides were turning,
emerging together,
diving together
breathing together
on water, on trails,
through cold, through bites,
dancing
rolling on the ground
lying right on top of each other
in one breath
straight out on top of each other
one breath
one breath
we are not the only ones,
but we are ones
who return
when eagles cry
and dolphins dive
we will always be
seeing each other
again
no matter how old
no matter how young
we will recognize each other
by the eagle cry
in the high high sky
a thousand miles above our heads.
Sjahari Hollands |
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