POEM: As I Poor Myself

As I poor myself
Out into the streets
A pasture for the people
At ease with just us
Weather soon becoming
A torrent of change
Oar that which trickles our fancy
A tributary to humanity
That no’s know bounds
And has no interest in banks

This poem is about that which makes us human, which can run still and deep or as a raging river.  Much of life is somewhere in-between, yet hopefully that which reflects our passions and fancies.

This poem also weaves this being human into community.  We cannot be fully human alone.  Or better said, we are more fully human in community.  This may take the form of joining hands and hearts in working for justice or simply enjoying the company of others.  Such accompaniment breeds further humanity.

Since being human tasks us with the never-ending paradox of needing to be more than human, we face an eternal question of choosing growth or decay, participating consciously in the unfolding of life or feudally try to hold onto what is passing by.  Humanity is furthered when its members are self-transcendent and when humanity transcends itself.  This perpetual opportunity and call for growth seeds a certain rebellion into any status quo.  There are always frontiers to cross, new lessons to learn, and new experiences to take in.  The most vital moments in life cannot be banked, and this poem concludes simply with a bank shot.  The true currency of life is not money, status, or power, but courage, hope, and kindness.  And life is never so exacting that there is not change left over…

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