Janine Canan  Poetics

 


READER

Looking at the evening sky—
scribbly clouds
and bright light blue—
I ask myself
“What am I doing here?”

I don’t mean anything small
like what am I doing in this room,
this state or country.
What am I doing here
on this planet now!

I knowthere is a reason
and I have spent my life
trying to find out
precisely
what it is.

A few things seem clear,
certain duties
or dharmas
as they say in the East.
But certainly

I didn’t come just to write
two or three inspiring poems
and put bandages
on a thousand or so
sufferers.

You and I, Reader, are the kind
who seek enlightenment.

Janine CananWe want more but aren’t always
evolved enough to achieve
more than glimmers.

Isn’t it frustrating? Not that
I am not eternally grateful
for the visions I have had—you know
some of them thanks to my guru
St. Murdoch, who commanded me.

Time is running out
for this incarnation.
So much I treasured is already gone.
And this vessel body is
crumbling.

To the supreme Being—
to the outermost limits—I cry out:
Take me now to the fiery heart
of absolute Truth. I feel ready
and if I am not—make me!

Janine Canan

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