How to know
Which way to go
And whom
To go with
Social circles lead
But don’t plant the seed
Of who shall be
And who they shall be
With.
So, I pause and look
Unphased
Yet dazed
As I open another book
Waiting for that tap on the shoulder
To look and find
A beautiful soldier
To guard and protect… my heart.
Written by © Tricia Chatterton. All Rights Reserved. (somewhere in the 90’s)
I’m beginning a new category (can’t get enough) titled “Poetry From Yesteryear.” As I go through all of my sketchbooks from my twenties, I’m finding some interesting poetry. It’s fascinating to see where I was emotionally and spiritually at that time… and how much life has changed since. I begin my first in the series with…
“World Full of Color”
I used to think life very clear
All black and white.
Years change me
Visions transform
Path becomes blurry
Too many choices
Revelation
Disintegration
Transformation
In a world full of color.
I tried to think of some way
to let my face become yours.
“Could I whisper in your ear
a dream I’ve had? You’re the only one
I’ve told this to.”
You tilt your head, laughing,
as if, “I know the trick you’re hatching,
but go ahead.”
I am an image you stitch with gold thread
on a tapestry, the least figure,
a playful addition.
But nothing you work on is dull.
I am part of the beauty.
We are the night ocean filled
with glints of light. We are the space
between the fish and the moon,
while we sit here together.
Gamble everything for love,
if you’re a true human being.
If not, leave
this gathering.
Half-heartedness doesn’t reach
into magesty. You set out
to find God, but then you keep
stopping for long periods
at mean-spirited roadhouses.
The morning wind spreads its fresh smell.
We must get up and take that in,
that wind that lets us live.
Breathe before it’s gone.
Ode 314
Those who don’t feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don’t drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don’t want to change,
let them sleep.
This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
I you want to improve your mind that way,
sleep on.
I’ve given up on my brain.
I’ve torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.
If you’re not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,
and sleep.
What is it to praise?
Make yourself particles.
What is it to know something of God?
Burn inside that presence. Burn up.
Copper melts in the healing exlixir.
So melt your self in the mixture.
that sustains existence.
You tighten your two hands together,
Determined not to give up saying “I” and “we.”
This tightening blocks you.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGiQkWfiCdY
From the moment I woke up this morning, I’ve been singing this song (flashbacks to kindergarten in Montréal maybe?). So, of course, I youtubed it and found this funky little version by Jean Francois Alexandre. Now I’ll never stop singing it. I thought I’d share it with you so you can get the same enjoyment. You’re welcome.
I recently unearthed my “Rumi” book from college and the page with this poem was marked. This poem is as perfect now as it was to me 14 years ago when I marked the page. I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do.
Quietness
Inside this new love, die.Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape.
Walk out like someone finally born into color.
Do it now.
You’re covered with thick cloud.
Slide out the side. Die,
and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign
that you’ve died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.
The speechless full moon
comes out now.
Tricia Chatter 
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