“Whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.”
E.E. Cummings
Shrill
It just shows up
I can’t see it
Its too soon to blame the wine
My glass has only given birth
to a tiny tipple
The clothes are hanging to dry
Blown into a dancing mob by the wind
Singing loudly
Conjuring
into a frenzied echo
at the serrated edge
of awareness
What is concealed
Is revealed
It just shows up
I can’t see it
But I feel it
Staring back at me
as the sudden piloerection
of a chink in the veil
Mere yet eternal
A glimpse of the unseen
Breathless and naked
I clumsily fall
into the climaxing
Shrill
of abandon
© Jamie Millard
The thrill of our lives is measured by the moments that take our breath away. Those fleeting yet immense moments where we catch a glimpse of the unseen. Mere, nonetheless eternal. Where time herself disrobes on the wind and everything stands still in the naked harmonius, confluencing consecration of transcendence. We lay down our tools of self and become the instrument - Being played by the universe. Our senses blending into the opulent opera of an echoing shrill as we abandon the I in the small death of becoming — i. Beyond the self the invisible becomes visible and all that is concealed is revealed.
“In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.”
Rumi
Art surprises us. It cracks us open. Art allows light to get deep inside of us but that crack in the veil of transformation also lets our own light get out into the world as well. What we seek is seeking us. Art meets us where we are but she never leaves us where she found us. Art changes us.
Poetry is heArt. It is a portal into the unseen world. Poetry allows us to filter out the noise of life to catch a naked glimpse of the invisible unconscious oneness of source. Poetry is meant to be read out loud. Reading and listening to a poem is meditative and the words create an intimate encounter with the heartfulness of presence. Creativity is a spiritual act. Writing poetry is a spiritual practice.
Poetry has a consciousness all of its own and will communicate deeply with us before it is understood. Poetry changes us.
Poetry is an instrument of transformation and in the surrender of self, we will become her poem.
Stay tuned for more here soon on The Poetry Way
A poetic journey home to you!
Lots of love,
Jamie
Beautiful!