Another harvest poem from a recent check-in circle in FL. It came after a teaching offered by Teresa Posakony on the birth and death of organization systems. Beautiful again. The words of participants when asked, “What makes you tremble?” and “Where do you stand?” I love the many entries in these words to the work that matters in our hearts, be it in FL or in other places of community and work.
The Place of Tremble
The place of tremble beyond right doing and wrong doing: I will meet you there.
Aware with attention, callin’ it back to center.
No need for a bender — just the mentor in the center.
Listen. Breath. How cool is that!
Sharin’ voice. Sharin’ choice. Sharen Joy.
Other council fires burned before ours, for hours.
I’m in the vision. I fear the rejection, the detection of my own judgment.
Out of the cave of like-minded people to the wave of new, seein’ my bein’.
In the magic of the profoundly open.
Is there danger in the stranger? Perhaps better in a manger.
Thirty years later in the land of gator,
so entrenched — views, words, labels.
Can we foster vision in the people?
Ownin’ it. No bemoanin’ it. Growin’ vision.
Shimmie on the bridge. Do I have the strength in my base to dance the curve?
I did the most horrible things, whispering my truth in the ear of my ex, among many in difference.
My passion makes me tremble.
Can we just get on better with each other, sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers.
Trusting in the bridges of possibility born on busses that plunged unknowingly.
In chunnels, tunnels, funnels of absolute authenticity.
Do we have the courage to let fall away?
The mired and the tired. Why are we holding on, we spirits in human form?
Am I really changin’? Can I trust my self, my self?
Trustin’ in the right place to be free.
I have visions. Is it real? Am I alone? Alone in this tone?
I think it’s tiiime we learn how to swim.
Gonna be a dolphin.
Letting go to the place of no story, trustin’ my dolphin muscles.
Knowing choice, choice in my voice.
When someone close dies, and goes away — that’s change.
I would like a place just as it seems.
No thinkin’. No red meat.
We have the will, but oh those snickers are good.
If I ain’t trembling, I tremble.
What if I forget?
Can I come to still?
What is the under this in unlearning? Grounded on my feet, and workin’.
I’ve always done work. What the hell am I doing?
Those old methods don’t work for me anymore.
No more fixin’. Just leap and float.
The ecstacy of near death has been with me all of my life.
What do you mean, no!
Ecstacy, frustration, anger, cry, laugh.
I can’t split. But I can walk back and forth
on rope bridges in Ireland lookin’ for birds above salmon.
I was in the bathroom, takin’ care.
It’s up to me – really – every day.
Awesome, fearsome.
I’m at the no point of every point,
trembling in the sacred, that wholeness.
Those toes, my toes, blistered and callused because I use them.
I wonder where that new flow is going.
I wonder with no blunder.
I saw these systems going away —
like unfolding flowers, showing it is possible.
Can’t be a hero of a story that your own creed created.
What if it were a new story altogether, the old that we’ve had all along in the new?
In another life, I thought I was bringing in change.
What if all organizations have soul?
Can we bring this back? What woud it mean to fail in soul?
It’s a new place. Bring my heart as I bend the curve.
Making the heart. That is my start.
I care about spirit and contributing when moved — this is my groove.
I’ve decided to be a voice for families of the future.
Living in the now, this how, not knowing where we’re going.
But knowin’ we could do better.
Kids deserve it. Our future. Knowin’ we can do better.
