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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1464856
A legendary monk crossed a body of water riding on an oar. Perhaps he was a Poet Warrior!
Message in the Bottle

He crosses the water—
just crossing—
—not on a boat, but on an oar,
simple blade of wood, under
two feet.

Two, to be totally aware,
know the groundlessness
supporting them,
not grasping the oar, but petting it,
splitting wave after wave of lessons,

new lessons and usually old ones
returned again, to bobble the oar in the air,
for the poet-warrior must remain aware.

Oh you there,
you just know he’s got to fall,
into the salty sea, where sharks
and mermaids wait to see,
waiting to see if he
accepts the
unacceptable,
except he doesn’t fall, draws
no conclusions, just stands on two feet,
attached so loosely to the oar,
meant to paddle but used to carry—

the poet-warrior—

The poet-warrior stands not proud,
not tall, not anything at all—

just upright, watching the sky
and the flying fish fly—
thinking nothing—

uninvolved.

Not struggling.

Just crossing


This poem is from a book by Dan Sturn Author IconMail Icon:
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FOLDER
Bottle in the River Open in new Window. (E)
A book of 44 Poems illustrating whatever you, the Reader, thinks.
#1462725 by Dan Sturn Author IconMail Icon

                     about a Poet's journey down a river, chasing a bottle
                     tossed by the fingertips of "that I am."


© Copyright 2008 Dan Sturn (dansturn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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