--for a warrior on the path
I went to the well tonight to draw water
looked over the edge
down into the darkness
that has always been a reliable mirror,
a quencher of deep thirsts.
It was empty.
At first, it made me think of my Irish ancestors
and all their striving and starving and yearning and stories...
of how old wells could run dry
and the underground rivers that fed them
could 'Up and Move'
if someone hadn't honored them, properly.
I wondered what ancient river inside of me
I had ignored for the water of life to run dry on a rainy night.
Then, I realized the vision wasn't about me.
Like the Hawk of Achill taking flight,
the eyes of my heart-mind were whisked up
on the high winds of night.
I was carried across nine glowing waves
and shown a moment in time when life made more sense;
when there was a magic order to things
and every moist day was saturated in mystery.
I needed to see that, freshly, to be able to see you, clearly.
Time has passed.
You've taken your warrior-self on another adventure.
Tenacious. Beautiful. Fighting your way through, as always.
And now I know, that this place is the empty well
and you are the life-giving river that has moved on
because you were not honored here.
This is not a poem...even though you asked for one.
It is a katana-prayer slicing through air.
My deepest wish for you
is that the deepest parts of you
can one day put down the battle
and let yourself truly be held
in a cradle of loving sunlight.