Summer Song; Ode to the Cruel and Lost

There may be nothing as hopeful as the villain finding his own good or the shadow waking to see his light.

Tonight as I lay broken in one way or another, punctuated by my own malady, I see there is no one I have the strength to hate so profoundly for whom I do not wish this–the seeing of his birthright of goodness.

I discover that I dream of all happy endings. I see them, the rapist, the full fisted and the petty standing under a night summer sky whispering, ‘Ah, yes. Finally I see. I am glad to have lived long enough.’

But why would this be so? Hope is the best thing going. Pulling for each of us to find our peace propels our current reality into future serenity.

Anger and hate. They are too taxing. Their toll is too high. They lurk in my body like thieves and murderers cutting away healthy tissue for poison and emptiness. I am rejecting them and instead dreaming of the wistful smile toward the end of the day. I am seeing him in his fields casting his eyes up the mountain, feeling glad for his wins and loses–even the one which saw me leave.

I am not saying I want all those who buried me in grief to be happy–I am thanking them for the experience and needing their gladness. We are born together and will die so as well. There is no connection ever made that can truly be broken.

Their joy is my own.

I realized this just tonight driving through my town on a quiet summer night. Beautiful as so many nights but unremarkable. Sitting at a red light with no particular thought it passed through me as the tears fell without warning–be happy, be peaceful, rest in awareness. I wanted this for me and then for them, those who I had perceived as the small galley of the harmful, because how else can goodness emerge except through them?

What is more powerful than the knowledge of the formerly unknowing? When the poet sings his love song it is expected. But when the pirate lays down his sword it is transformational.

I see now I have room for both and I aspire for both. Tonight I am the poet, yesterday the pirate. One who is not capable of casting a shadow has never been incarnate.

Do you see how we are tied together? We are like threads knit together in a blanket of love and loss, ignorance and wisdom, fear and love. It covers us all.

To those I have held dear and those who I have feared, you have made me and we are one. As I lay myself down hoping for the deepest of sleeps, I wish you very well.

May all beings be happy.


















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