Because your rainforest mind is vast and deep and because it moves quickly through its awarenesses and insights, it can be hard to find humans who “get you.” My dear colleague, Anne Allanketner, describes that loneliness here, as only she can.
The Lost Circle
Loneliness, full of dry sticks and howling dogs
can be felt by anyone; the shrunken, the beautiful, the shamed.
Remember- our tribe is dispersed,
wandering, gathering pieces of faded silk
and unraveled thread and lost buttons
mending ourselves with music, with hidden pools of color
hoping, not yet believing, that the others
look for us, also, few as they are,
few as we are.
Each one full of cold lake water from the distant mountains
Each one distracted by the catcalls and accusations
of strangeness, each one alone, lost in the dry ache
Only a wild trust can help us find ourselves now
from the burst star of our beginnings.
Make your odd sounds, your curative movements.
Call up the light into your eyes.
Sorting and sorting our bright collections and treasures will not help.
Go out into the foreign city, among the shuffling millions.
One precious stone awaits you, caught in the hands
of the Other who is brave enough to truly sing
her own name.
We are coming towards you
one by one, a tribe dispersed
like a seed pod, each of us carrying
a little flame, a little bell
and looking for the heart
of a shared music.
To my bloggEEs: To read more poems by the wonderful Anne Allanketner,