What If

_DKO0954

What if
at the cen­ter of the labyrinth
you found only
a lit­tle boy, frightened,
frail as a moth­’s wing?
How could such a creature
sur­vive the world’s crude play,
the knife in the eye
of the stranger?

No one knows how hard
the cas­ing of a seed
or the true mean­ing of
of a snail’s intri­cate shell.
If some­thing must be endured
we want to believe it can be
but that’s not the point.

The point is the boy deep inside
the cir­cle at the center
of the storm of stars.
The point is what sur­rounds him,
the wind­ing and unwind­ing way
he walked the cours­es and
the love he now feels
that does not come
from any oth­ers, who­ev­er they are
or might be.

It just comes
out of the wind singing
above the waves
this love, this rare courage
that has no home
but him.

What if
at the cen­ter of the self
there is nothing
but love, a great love for being?
Would that be enough
to hold you to the path
that runs any day across the cliffs
while the waves
break and break and break
so far beneath you?

_DKO0946

2 Comments

  • Bill brown wrote:

    Love you Dan for post­ing this! I pray dai­ly to recov­er and make amends for all of the destruc­tion I’ve caused my dear­est friends. I miss you and Car­men ter­ri­bly. Of course LeeAnn . God grant me the seren­i­ty to accept the things I can­not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wis­dom to know the dif­fer­ence. Love must shine through the darkness

  • Dear Bill~

    What a dif­fi­cult time, and for sure that seren­i­ty prayer you men­tioned is the per­fect guide. Man, the pain is incred­i­ble and leaves us all speech­less. Car­men and I can only send you our love — we have great faith that you will get through this, Bill. It will take time, for sure, but the new real­i­ty will come, the new man with his great­ness and gifts intact is there and will re-emerge in new and amaz­ing forms. Can’t force it, of course; it can only be invit­ed. A lot of wait­ing is involved; that’s all I know about reincarnation.

    I think it’s espe­cial­ly tough when trag­ic things strike and we are left to bear not only the pain of so much loss but also the sense of respon­si­bil­i­ty. The guilt is a weight, and who knows why the weight is there to car­ry except to take us that much deep­er into our­selves, teach­ing us to love oth­ers and our­selves in ways we nev­er imag­ined possible. 

    You have music in you, Bill. All the music in the world.

    What if
    at the cen­ter of the self
    there is nothing
    but love, a great love for being?
    Would that be enough
    to hold you to the path
    that runs any day across the cliffs
    while the waves
    break and break and break
    so far beneath you?

    Love
    Dan

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