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