Foreign Familiar

Love it, hate it, somewhere in-between: Take from this what you will...

                    Foreign Familiar

I sense it, the connection.
     I know it;
           not a feeling, not a thought,
                 a know.
Know, try, do.
                                   try.

This foreign land is familiar.
The more it naturally,
      gently,
            overwhelmingly,
                   alarmingly,
            connects with me,
                         to land: to home -
      ...the more I am earthed;
            grounded in the haze of what makes us human.
      ...the more I understand, and hate, my hate.
            Confused, disheartened, yet still inspired to dream.
      ...the more my body longs for...

Fertility,
which is everywhere bursting with life - 
           - from the fragrant, quiet sunrise gently greeting and beckoning branches, birds; 
          bathing in the warm - scorching - rays of life... awakening, connecting...
     yet repressed...

           - through to sunset, when the once comfort of still night simmers down, uneasy 
           with fear of violation, dissatisfaction, and loneliness.  Longing for before the 
           loss of calm comforting rest.

By the pride of women,
 - and the pride of men - 
     The rivers gushing life - to drink, to bathe -
           dammed, poisoned, stolen.
...strangling sources of being:
     the stuff of sterility.


The walls I have around me enclose 
     a body so much more than its borders,
           aching for a connection that has been, and is cut through,
Those walls that break beauty,
     and cause me to fear that love, 
           more truly shown in liberation,
                  will not be expressed,
                        lived,
                        desiring to be unbound within peace,
                        in this life.

...Causes me to wonder,

     
who will tear down the walls? me? you?
            us... 

                   ...enough?
     And where will we get our fuel for such a task?
              - our desires, responsibilities?
              perhaps once pure, but corrupted,
                    caught in the cycle of walls.

Land divided, and souls divided
      like ours,
      struggling to be vulnerable;
      even in friendship,
      even in more.
                          especially in more...
Separated by pride, addiction, corruption, hate. hate.

...Though I cannot see your face, your eyes - 

- such blockage -

     the sky that is all we can both have in common in the now,

           will send its doves overhead,

                 to whisper similar and unique gentle beckonings of 

                 love that casts out the fear,

                       and puts the strength in our human hands,

                 to melt what separates us,

                       passionate, intentional, with care...

      and even if for a moment in time -

                 for the moment may pass - 

            we are surrendered by willing, needed, embrace.

With me,

     produce love;

          the kind I cannot make alone.

Let us unite under the common blue,

     the above that 

          connects us from outside, inside,

                outside, inside -

                                            one.

Sky, Water, Land;
        soul. 

     foreign, 

     familiar,

            to share.