Thoughts About Feelings and a Poem

Feelings are apart of who I am.  They are a current that runs through me.  They can tell me to attend to something that is impacting me. They can tell me to follow a deep desire.  They can be distortions of thinking, old patterns, or induced by lack of sleep or drugs (Painkillers after surgery were a hard teacher). Sometimes they are only a tiny part of me. For me feelings are like dreams. They need attention and space to breathe and move to be part of my life and flesh out who I am.

 

And now the poem:

 

THE WEATHER

For Miyazaki

 

green green all is green

 

morning: pressure building mounting compression darkening clouds thicken

sky and me about to burst

a Scheherazade wind sweeps in

redwood boughs blow down and up

skimmering the roof of the old Dutch barn

setting off needles in a twisting twirling dance

 

and then the rains came

 

a rush of water tumbles down is struck sideways by sudden gust

and swims across the sky

 

a shift in the wind

 

water streams straight down in glistening strands

the sound of fall

earth becomes drum

and it in turn plays me

release

 

the wind comes back bouncing

 

puffs of air displace drips with pockets of air

patterns of water and clouds of space—

silence in the empty places

 

a shift again

 

rain begins to slant in a diagonal vector—                                                    

moves to syncopated pings:  ping   pingping  pingpingping           ping

(my lips curl in smile)

stopping

stop

stopped

 

the very air becomes a factor

 

still, clear

I can see straight through

to forever

 

below, green green all is…

 

my moods move like weather

(on any given day).

 

all is green