The Master spoke about love from the great, gray sky.
Hatred from gnarled minds, steel, and straw.
Pain that transforms like light in a cave.
Spoke about joy, not to be trusted too long.
Sadness from the broken wings of birds.
Fear from the breaking earth.
She spoke about guilt and despair from ego and smallness.
Hope that comes from animals and stars.
Wisdom from palimpsests, runes and bones.
The Master spoke about conundrums that never give up, always there.
She turned my mind inside out til nothing remained but tones and open spaces.
I left her home
after two hours studying with her.
Lost in San Francisco. Breathe.
19th Ave traffic. Breathe.
I knew a slowing down had to come
but not the way it came,
not sound that cut the night.
After three hours on 101, I thought
I took back roads home, but didn’t.
Just thought I did.
Because the car accident happened
Highway 116 and Llano Road.
I knew it wasn’t just an accident
that something huge
had broken, not just my body.
But my other self, the self that came from the sea.
The self that came centuries ago.
Something crashed open,
like a murdered doe under pines,
her body pulled by roots
speaking of the shining world below.
The Master’s voice, a waterfall.