Meditating Upon a Centipede
author's note:
I dedicate this poem to all those of my generation who hoped the Carlos Castaneda books were true accounts.
So, in part, I dedicate this poem to myself.
MEDITATING UPON A CENTIPEDE
Once in a forest, alone
I tried to force my eyes open
driven by the desire to see
the mysteries
of a spirit world I sense
all around me.
For many minutes I peered
into the darkness of the trees--
I stared--I squinted--
trying to pierce the curtain
until nearly blind with frustration...
finally I sank down to rest
on a stump by a dry brook
but in the quiet defeat
of this convalescence
I slowly forgot myself
as my empty eyes began to fill
with the grand beauty
of a centipede
humbly soldiering
through a rich wasteland
of gray-brown leaves:
such intelligence in those little legs!
I watched until
the tails disappeared
into a miniature door
at the base of the stump
but a few more moments passed
before I came back to myself--
suddenly I realized
I'd entered an elevated state--
maybe now
the mysteries of the world
would open to me--!
But that desire, returning so abruptly
broke the peace
and I returned to being the lesser being.
Thus
the secrets I wished to see
remained secrets.
I then cursed my impulse
until I realized:
without this drive
I could not endure
the tedious process of opening
to the truth of a hidden world
we all secretly know.
© 2017, Michael R. Patton
listening to silence: a poetry book
Labels: centipede, forest, hidden, meditation, mysteries, new age, peace, spirit world, spirituality, spoken word
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