The ropes have been cut.
The bindings have fallen away.
It feels like New Year's Day
beneath this unnecessary armor.
A blocked river of ki in the belly
begins stretching its mountain dragon spine.
An uncoiling has begun.
Posture and mind respond in kind.
Thoughts turn to mountains.
Mountains I've walked.
Mountains I've slept in.
Mountains I've bled in.
Mountains I've cried in.
Mountains I will die in.
Some jagged like wolf teeth.
Some rounded like a lover's hips.
Some a grandmother bestowing healing wisdom.
Others fierce, ungiving
a troubled ascending
bare feet on sharp blades.
A "year of immovable wisdom" complete,
Heart-Mind turns toward a "year of moving light."
Renewal of focus
Renewal of vows
Renewal of refuge
The wise ones have always seen mountains as a mother.
The Way - a testing, a humbling, an entering embrace.
Then, a return.
A renewal of spirit to serve the Spirit of Life, resilient.
I drop the armor at the foot of the mountain
and begin my preparations.
(c) 2017 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com
image: "Starry Night" by Lee Eunyeol
sound: Eitetsu Hayashi