Reblog: Poem: Desert by Charlie Morris


by Charlie Morris (13July2010)

I wonder if the spirits
are as exasperated with me
as I am with them.

Why does my learning
come from loss
and not
from joy?
And how long will this lesson

Why is wisdom
earned through struggle
but not
practiced until there is peace?
And how long must this peace

through relationship
I have been transformed
into the learned
into the wiser
and I use these skills
to do nothing more
than stare at the sands behind me
and watch the great mother wind
obscure the tracks,
theirs and mine.

I sit down
on the dune
feel god beating down
upon me
and tremor,
not because I am alone in the desert
but because I am the lonely desert.

Oh sweet people
I so dearly have no answers
for you,
I so thoroughly contain no knowing
than what I experience when or if
you choose to meet my eyes
or hold my hands
or open yourself to this universal

And I do not accept
what looks at you in those moments
I do not love what exposes you
I do not like how it strips off your ego
like clothing for a bonfire
that burns in honor of gods I serve
but do not even recognize.

Can’t I have a different gift?
Perhaps something that people love?
Perhaps something that bandages and binds?
Perhaps something that only makes them smile?

I shake the sand from my robes
and try to move on,
but where do I move to?
I exist in the minority of the majority,
on the fringes of the minority
the ragged edge of the fringe
and as a single fiber on the ragged edge
that floats in the infinite…
like the desert all ‘round,
so I sit right back down.

Do people really want to see
how we are all made out of sand?
As beautiful, pristine and wild
as the desert is
I don’t want to be the heated
I don’t want to disturb their sleep.
I can’t find a reason to say
any more
to any one

I’d rather be out here alone
than bring others with me.
I am not like Jesus.
I am not a guru.
I do not feel the need to quicken
another’s awakening.
I say the good news
is that you can live in illusion
for your whole lifetime
and not be punished for it.
The good news,
is that you do not have to be saved
by anyone.
The good news is that
if you do what you do
and say what you say
you won’t receive God’s love
you will see that you are God’s love.

Even when feeling alone
in vast empty desert
this love is more than enough
to quench any thirst.

When my healer, Charlie Morris, first posted this poem in 2010 he also had an audio and video version. This poem, his situation in this lifetime, and the impact his healing work had on me personally, all reverberated very strongly for me. For me, just working with Charlie even from a distance can strip of the illusions of my life in a way that is not comfortable nor well-paced. It is like the coming out of the pod scene in the Matrix. Or better said, the purpose of my life, to see through the illusions of what appear to create our own inner awareness, peace and sovereignty, is itself like that heated sandstorm. When your purpose is to see through illusion, and most of what is around you is building up illusion, you can’t but appear as a heated sandstorm sometimes. And as a human, when relationships and events cease to be propped up by that kind of projective illusion, it can be sad. “Can’t I have a different gift? Perhaps something that bandages and binds? Perhaps something that only makes them smile?”

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