Prompt: "Never (blank)" and fill in the blank.
“Have no fear,”
the angel said in measured tones.
"Have no fear. He is well.”
I’d been so frantic –
my youngest,
his first time away from Australia
entirely on his own,
the great world trip,and he’d hit trouble.
Mind you, he was 29
but all the same,
naïve enough
to get drugged and robbed
at his first port of call:
Bali.
You can imagine –
my lurid fantasies
soon had him set up and framed
and tossed indefinitely
into a dire Indonesian prison.
(Never mind that he was the complainant.)
Unable to settle,
I went and cast circle
in the big room I had in those days
as my home temple.
I did it the Ceremonial Magic way,
calling the Archangels.
Surprisingly, a voice –
yes, in my head, but so clear and strong
I was almost sure it was physical.
Well, and come to that,
it wasn’t in my head, it was over there,
only I was hearing it telepathically.
“Rosemary,” it said,
“We wish to speak with you.”
I managed not to pass out.
Trying to do whatever might be
correct in these circumstances,
I mentally designated Gabriel spokesman.
I turned to face West
and waited.
“Have no fear,” the angel said,
“He is well.”
That was it. End of message.
And my fear left.
It was enough.
It carried with it
clarity and calm,
an unusual, particular peace –
alert, awake, and very grounded.
“… that passeth all understanding,” I thought.
I have learned since
to know that quality, which is palpable,
as heralding the presence of angels –
angels in whose presence I feel
both peaceful and strong;
beings of few words but essential.
“Have no fear,” the angel said.
I do have fear. I am human.
Sometimes I forget.
I forget that I don’t need it.
I forget that the energy of fear
itself can cause problems.
(I don’t mean healthy, sensible fear,
like if a bull’s chasing you
you’d better run.
I mean that other kind
which is useless of course
and makes everything worse.)
“Never” seems so large.
Try it in the moment:
“Have no fear.”
I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')
These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
the small quiet firm voice. no quibble, lovingly shushing.
ReplyDeleteI've heard a comparable inner talk since I read the book Eat, Love, Pray.
it's valuable to isolate. It takes practice and willingness.
(Love the last stanza but the phrasing I can't recall just yet after all my intervening wordage.)
That is a book I'm meaning to get hold of some time soon!
ReplyDelete