This Yule I gave time to a distressed former friend. She had been there once for me. I figured this was a gift to her in return even given her betrayal this summer. Since then I have kept my distance. Centered myself on my studio completion and the striving to reach a level of achievement within myself with my art. I invited her with others to my studio opening last night.
It is All About Her
I sat
And listened to my old friend
Today
And saw her not hearing what she said
Of excuses and reasons for her behavior.
She talked
of DNA and genetics and the latest research in favor of
Powerlessness
She heard not a word
Of what she repeated of teachers.
I watched
Someone I no longer
recognized
No longer wanted to know
On any level but chitchat.
She sat
Across from me in the morning sun
Jabbering
Talking nonsense she should would not once have believed
And giving it too much weight.
She'd grown
Less and ponderous but without weight
dark
The sun streamed through the windows
And touched her not.
I tried
To listen to her excuses
See
What she thought meant so much
But saw only what she had once been.
Why
Have has she become just reasons not
Excuses
For the inexcusable
All about her surrendered soul.
Argue
For your very souls
limitations
And give up all hope
Of being more than just yourself.
Growth
Is a nurtured hope
Promise
Of one's soul to itself
Excuse for less is but death.
(c) J. Binford-Bell Winter Solstice 2008
I sat
And listened to my old friend
Today
And saw her not hearing what she said
Of excuses and reasons for her behavior.
She talked
of DNA and genetics and the latest research in favor of
Powerlessness
She heard not a word
Of what she repeated of teachers.
I watched
Someone I no longer
recognized
No longer wanted to know
On any level but chitchat.
She sat
Across from me in the morning sun
Jabbering
Talking nonsense she should would not once have believed
And giving it too much weight.
She'd grown
Less and ponderous but without weight
dark
The sun streamed through the windows
And touched her not.
I tried
To listen to her excuses
See
What she thought meant so much
But saw only what she had once been.
Why
Have has she become just reasons not
Excuses
For the inexcusable
All about her surrendered soul.
Argue
For your very souls
limitations
And give up all hope
Of being more than just yourself.
Growth
Is a nurtured hope
Promise
Of one's soul to itself
Excuse for less is but death.
(c) J. Binford-Bell Winter Solstice 2008
I drew three runes for direction this solstice. I got Growth, Transformation and Opening. Auspicious beginning for the new solar year. But with growth comes leaving behind those people and things that limit us.
