Quiet Ecstasy

author's note:

I'd like to recommend: Ecstasy: Understanding the Psychology of Joy by Robert A. Johnson.


QUIET ECSTASY

Stand up!

Having heard those words all my life
by now, the command’s
baked-in

so any time gravity
seems to increase
I automatically fight
to stay on my feet

and if I slip to my knees
I’ll then see defeat
and curse myself, yelling:
Stand--dammit, stand!

Then in response
I’ll push my body upright
and keep on going.
Here’s the routine:

I walk until I drop
then force myself back up.
I walk until I drop
then force myself back up.

A pattern broken when
the force of nature
grows stronger
than my conscious will.

At that point
realizing I’ve no real choice
I’ll finally surrender
and lay myself down--all the way down
on my back on the ground.

Then comes the slow sweet ache
of vertebrae softly bursting
to sink down hungry thirsty roots--
to tap the heavy water and feed
on the rich black pith of the earth.

I once thought “ecstasy” meant
a flail of dancing
and long howls at the moon.

Yes, but not always:
sometimes ecstasy comes
from holding yourself still as a well
and allowing body and spirit to fill
with an excruciating sense
of life’s abundance

while fighting the fear
of being overwhelmed.
And stopping myself from standing again
as soon as I’m able to crawl back up--
forcing myself to wait ‘til I’m done--
wait until I’ve regained
the full strength of my love.

Yes, I want to show how tough I am
but this walk feels joyless--empty
whenever I lose my sense of beauty.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton
Listening to Silence: poetry ebook