Monday, September 7, 2009

The jungle man

Buried in the basement
of Harvard's Adams Hall,
somewhere between the laundry room
and bike storage,
the jungle man calls out to me,
his deep voice a startling burst of color
against the scarred white walls.

Stop, he says;
Don't get entangled
in this forest of shoulds, don'ts and nevers --
the words whose blades
will cut at you and cage you in --
Remember, he says,
his hands outstretched
to harvest the warmth of a butterfly,
that there is within you
a profound deep knowing of freedom.
No need to grasp:
just listen for its song
and follow it home to love.

* * *

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love them both, the image and the words.

I wish I could quilt like that.