Long Slow as molasses Poems
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My Father’s Hand!
My father left me when I was a baby
and all that remained of him… was his hand!
The hand that edged its way
into the last photo he took of me!
As I grew, I used to study that hand
searching, rooting for details of personality;
a reflection upon my possible characteristics.
Did I see a loving hand, skinned in kindness
or a selfish one, boned and heartless?
So I aged, feeling different, aware of scarring.
Occasionally, I tried to break free from solitude
but my partner kept whispering me back
until I would try to cry
but not understanding the steps.
I was poor on love; overfed on loneliness
but sensing the tremors of isolation in others.
Thirty years later and a father’s day email!
Then gradually, slow as molasses,
I unlocked, I opened my front door,
tentatively, anxiously allowing him into my life.
Eventually a pleasure, a confidence, a warmth,
began to seep, to trickle into my soul.
The abandoned child had been found
and the next part of my life could begin.
I discovered a father, one who wanted forgiveness,
and, at last, I could part company with
the stings of rejection, the stabs of loneliness
which had serrated away at my life.
I could now think about all those memories
that I used to share with myself,
hoping that now I had rediscovered someone
I could apportion, ration them with.
I yearned for a father who would listen,
who would share…..
and in time, he did
and in time, I learnt to forgive.
Ian Souter
Not that folks out there are keeping score--
But I envision myself as something... more
However, the main obstacle getting in my way
Is predicting what could go wrong every day
Particularly because I tend to be strait-laced
No place around here is hiring me with haste
I didn't succeed in school to prep for a career
Now I lack proper income, year after year...
Even with 2 A.A.'s-- and scads more classes
Finding my niche has been slow as molasses
Now I found out that with just my library card
There's access to free courses which I regard
That should have been my entire college ed!
But they made me go, so I got debt instead
Sometimes I feel I do not belong in this city
But independence requires being more gritty
Yet since my goal is not merely to impress
I often long for simplicity, something... less
Imagining rising early-early to tend a small farm
Except I can't myself cause an animal any harm
I could gather hen eggs and learn to milk a cow
Would I be dedicated with my hand to the plow?
Fickle as I am, my indecisive discernment
Confuses me as where to be God's servant
Would I find purpose in the White Violet Center
Helping with crops and alpaca, being a mentor
Or am I destined to keep putting up with this mess
Stuck here in a trial of patience, & learning to bless
Being here for my mom later, in her elderly age
As she was here for me, from my earliest stage
I don't mind my role as a helpful "volunteer lady"
But I hope for job security, without turning shady
Perhaps my hobbies and art could be an online biz
Earning my bread without shoplifting as in Les Mis
Probably I missed my chance to be a cloistered nun
Now that I'm too old, & tried to have too much fun
It's just as well, since I need to take care of myself
Avoiding kidney stones doesn't contribute to my pelf
And in what climate could this Little Flower grow...
Do I really need all this sun, or could I endure snow
Have I been complaining literally this whole poem?
Guess that's what happens when I'm bored at home
Through it all, God has done great things for me
I'd like to offer more to show how He set me free
My left-brain dominant challenge
begs for a worldview
of unconditional warm regard
Which sometimes feels uncomfortably warm
through heated confrontations
confused about whose voice is rightfully speaking
respectfully with whom
And who is listening curiously
for
and with whom
to practice universal
uniting compassion,
employing warm organically-fed tools
sometimes slow as molasses
in frosty January
Not cold steel weapons,
icicles aimed for the hearts
and minds of difficult Others.
On our best days
and nights
not too coldly distant
and not too heatedly dissonant
Even on our worst traumatic days
and narcissistic dramatic nights,
silent listening voices
urge unconditionally curious regard
To avoid slippery unsafe
unhealthy slopes
of anger blaming lack of patience
and self-shaming fear
reacting against Others' impatience
Judgment
that I am not important enough
to respect,
to regard,
to notice,
to matter,
to value,
to appreciate,
to love
unconditionally
Outside my left-hemisphere dominant
claustrophobic box
of mere linear
cause-effect
univocal reason
And
Inside limbic right-hemisphere resonance,
dark/light
mindful inside/outside
enlightenment/empowerment
For integral indigenous mind/bodies
peaceful spirit/natures
recreating co-passionate ego/eco-spirals
transforming ***** uniting mirrors
rebalancing yin/yang boundary treasons
reassessing Earth's safe wealth/health seasons
For white male privileged
left-brain dominant challenges
continuing to punish and divide
insufficient time from sufficient sacred space
for unconditional warm regard
Best taught
by curiously relearning
integrity of mindbody
becoming radiantly felt Sunlight
and EarthTribal
internally awesome
co-invested power.