Photo: ‘Orange Beaked Gull Sings Out the Sea’ – Pixabay
https://tinyurl.com/y9fmgrnh
Ken’s poem opens in me a kind of ‘allowing’… a ‘sweep and swoop’… an openness accommodating all within and without… and also an ending of those distinctions…
“There are countless pathways… Access is there… Once we can let go of our concern with reporting back every step of our progress, we have the opportunity to invite a deepening knowledge. As we extend and advance and elaborate, innovate and sustain and crystallize, we activate the inward, indeterminate knowledge of eknosis [inward outward knowing]. It is like suddenly learning how to fly: Before we advanced in a mechanical way; now we can soar and float and sweep and swoop.â€
….’Dynamics of Time and Space’, by Tarthang Tulku, p. 183
JANUARY MATIN
by Ken McKeon
Cloud forms, muted luminosities, light rain,
More unhinged ventricles of the heart of time,
And I’m weathered out,
So I’m bagging it,
Dipping down below all my sensory participations,
To let the brick road disappear
Over the green hill by itself,
I’m done with daisies,
With all the seeds of time that feed the spring,
And the whole blooming world
Says howdy to itself in a rush
Of freshly petaled wind,
It’s all nifty sexy laughter,
And I am less than a dirt clod,
A grumbler in a cardboard room,
Sitting in an empty Kleenex box of time,
I have a bad cold and feel like a sneeze,
So I head inside, get behind my rib cage,
Lungs are cushy bulging vastly living flexing lumpy things,
They are my special air,
I live within their customary breeze,
I am the holy beat of my living heart,
The stinging snap of my spine,
My big belly floats above my groin,
Mantra displays itself,
It is inscribed within each cell.
When I stir, a prayer wheel turns
Within the small, the moderate, the large,
The laughter is welcoming and immeasurable,
A deep wave surging as an air, as a small winged thing,
As the silvery wave froth bubbling flow eliding all thought of me,
And the orange beaked, white winged gull sings out the sea.
