JANUARY FIFTH:

Poetry descends in an unlikely place, while wearing mostly my wildish soulskin…

I shinnied up the slope, climbing higher into the Santa Susannas, aiming for a large cave in a particularly intriguing rock formation. I felt pretty agile for an “old goat,” holding my 57 years well enough, though taking care with my right ankle and lower back. Best to be mindful. It was a sunny, warm winter day in southern California, and I was coming alive with each step.

Arriving at my chosen spot, I stripped down to my panties and socks and laid face down on a large rock, flattening myself against it. I hoped no one on the trails below would see me, but needed my wildish communion come what may. I felt my whole body give way into the smooth hardness of stone, finding welcome repose in the sun warmed solidarity of my rocky couch.

A deep sigh left my body, muscles remembering now how to let go, bones settling in: I was home.

Soon this little poem came through:

Beyond good and evil, Beyond war and peace,

Beyond flesh and spirit, All sufferings cease.

With harmony, chaos In equal embrace,

Ascending, descending,

Amazing, I’m Grace.

Shining DeLight, Marcia Singer, Love Arts Foundation, Santa Rosa CA

[This story is excerpted from my memoir, LOVE, THY WILL BE DONE:Tales of Awakening A Wild Heart, Voi. 2 (2020).]