The Horse Says Hay

author’s note:

When I see a shot of a climber scaling a vertical ascent, under a brutal sun, with only a pile of sharp boulders to break his fall...

...I often feel as if I’m slacking.

But I know that there are many ways to do the same thing.


AGREEMENT

Our exhalations breeze--
waving the flags of various translations--

When I say “spirit”, you may say
sun or horse or wind
but the horse says “hay”.

When I say “spirit”, the cook replies:
ingredients, heat, fragrance.
But the thief says: fat diamond
and you answer: divine light
dancing through a stone window.

I understand what the mountaineer feels
when he whispers “by my fingertips”--

though I don’t climb cliffs
I am instructed
to hang on, to twist as Houdini did:
upside down.

I am told there is a net
that must remain unseen--
otherwise, where would
my courage be?

I say spirit--and a voice shouts
Amen! from the darkness--
maybe someone in
an ancient congregation.
Or maybe someone
living a religion
no one else even knows.

I say “black and white”
someone else says
“white and black”--
and a bell tells us both: bend
and blend.

When I proclaim: I will open--
one bell says Cross.
Another bell says Tree.
Either way, they both ring.

A new-born baby screams “Blood!”--
and you say--we both say--
flowing all over the world.

I say 4 by 4 room--you say limitless.
And I agree.

Yes, we agree today.  And we will agree
tomorrow.  And in-between
our agreements, we agree
we will not allow
our disagreements
to destroy us.

© 2008, Michael R. Patton
bloneironic