Better Poems



Relax into the hammock of your life
It will support you
Examine the virtues that you came in with
They stretch from end to end
All the lessons you've learned
Are woven throughout
Is it not a strong cloth?
It is your own
That you've made with your very best efforts

When you get melted down
And are lost in dark boxes
Of powerful memories
Of your own versions
Of hell
With no star by which to orient...
Then choose to look...
Look at every cruel action
And all selfish motives you see
Look at all
But with soft eyes... through
Eyelashes of understanding...
And with a mother's love of her baby's ways
Look through such eyes
And the darkness of hell
Will turn into
A velvet black
A lullaby night
A cradling heart
Soon this dark will be...
Sweeter than light...
Warmer than light...
Gentler than light...
The very inner light
Of love

Thus will the hammock of your life
Stretching end to end
Support you.




Author's Notes/Comments: 

i wrote this poem to an aged friend who was getting ready to die.she was consciously preparing by reviewing her life in her mind. i wanted her to know that i thought her life had been a successful venture.

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kittymonkey's picture

Liked the poem, liked the imagery. Well done.
Sai Grafio

Others' Poems's picture

for Jannie, sister of Kabir

Kabir - four poems
O Brother! when I was forgetful, my true Guru showed me the Way.
Then I left off all rites and ceremonies, I bathed no more in the
holy water:
Then I learned that it was alone I who was mad, and the whole world
beside me was sane; and I had disturbed these wise people.
From that time forth I knew no more how to roll in the dust in
I do not ring the temple bell:
I do not set the idol on its throne:
I do not worship the image with flowers.
It is not the austerities that mortify the flesh which are pleasing
to the Lord,
When you leave off your clothes and kill your senses, you do not
please the Lord:
The man who is kind and who practises righteousness, who remains
passive amidst the affairs of the world, who considers all creatures
on earth as his own self,
He attains Immortal Being, the true God is ever with him.
Kabir says: "He attains the true Name who's words are pure, and who
is free from pride and conceit."

O Man, if thou dost not know thine own Lord, whereof art thou so
Put the cleverness away: mere words shall never unite thee to Him.
Do not deceive thyself with the witness of the Scriptures:
Love is something other than this, and he
who has sought it truly has found it.

Between the poles of the conscious and the unconscious, there has the
mind made a swing:
Thereon hang all beings and all worlds, and that swing never ceases
its sway.
Millions of beings are there: the sun and the moon in there courses
are there:
Millions of ages pass, and the swing goes on.
All swing! the sky and the earth and the air and the water; and the
Lord Himself taking form:
And the sight of this has made Kabir a servant.

Your Lord is within you,
Like fragrance in the flowers.
Why, like a musk deer
Are you searching for musk
in the grass
again and again?

Kabir was born 1440, according to himself "at once the child of Allah
and Ram" (Islam and Hinduisme).

Copyright 1998 - Bindu and Scandinavian Yoga and Meditation School

Victoria Danson's picture

I really like the analogies in this poem. It reminds me of summer afternoon swinging with my father on a hammock in the woods and reading books.

Your word choices are really unique and amazing here. I like the darker twist and analyzation, it was unexpected and struck me like the lightning that comes with the summer rains.

wemni's picture

Re: Postpoems

Did I not respond to your great comment? I think I set my settings wrong and may not have gotten a notice of your review. Or of any reviews, actually. I wouldn't purposely have not responded, so if i didn't I am really sorry. Very belated thanks!

Elizabeth Burgess Drivas's picture

There's such an easy flow of healing through this poem...

saiom's picture

The author told me she heard "You need not change.. but only grow" or words to that effect.. both that line and this poem teach us that in stillness more than in striving we find God.. Thank you, teacher