How can I write of transformation?

Intro

Back in the Spring, Lynn Rosser asked me to write a poem for the Singers spring concert. I was honored – and asked her about the theme. She told me that it was, “Transformation – Awakening to the New Consciousness for Our Time”. I said, “Cool” – then went away and realized that I didn’t have anything to say about transformation, or about consciousness, old or new. So I got back to Lynn and said that, for me, the theme for the concert and the song list were just a little too relentlessly upbeat – and that I would need to contribute something that would be more “grounding”. Lynn had the intuitive wisdom to not immediately warm to this idea: “Uh, OK.” Then I went home and proceeded to completely act out: I wrote the darkest poem I could possibly write – and had a total blast doing so. Needless to say, you did not hear that poem at the concert. I think Lynn might still find it horrifying, but I still kinda like it. It’s called “How Can I Write of Transformation?”

HOW CAN I WRITE OF TRANSFORMATION? (Majo, 4/28/09)

How can I write of transformation
When I am so angry?
How can I speak of
My better angels
When today the demons run the show?

Life,
By beating me into submission
By a thousand humiliations
Has lowered the bar for me
So many times
And still I can’t help but to
Keep going under

How can I speak of expansion,
Of transcendence
When I am so contracted,
So depressed?

I want to expand within, not without
To go to the dark heart
Of that black hole within
Which is not just mine
But a human thing

How can I speak of my higher self
When I have just screwed up again
And hurt you as I did?
And then you told me how that still somehow worked for you
The sweet thing that for you happened next

May I screw up in all the just-right ways
If I must be an ass
Make me Life’s holy ass
Let others ride on my mistakes
To where they need to go

Lord, help us –
Make me an instrument
Make me an instrument of your divine chaos
Let me surrender any claim
To be evolved, to be further down the path

Make me Life’s great
Role model from hell
If others may not want to be like me,
Then let my screwed-up example
Make them want to be
More and more like them.

If even he can keep moving,
Can put one foot in front of the other
And trust that they will take him somewhere
Then so can I”

I want to lead the troops
Deeper into the swamp
Than man or woman has ever gone
And trust that somewhere
In this gooey, putrid mess
There lies an orchid
A magic jewel that transforms
The mud in which we are encased
Into the heavenly armor that allows us
To fight our way to the gates of hell
Crash through
And be burned alive
Into the phoenix we were meant to be

If my road must be the low one
Then let me not settle for just
Both feet on the ground
Life, make your drill bit
To the center of the earth 

It may hurt like hell going down
But I want to see what’s there

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