from a collection entitled Stirrup of the Sun & Moon


First, you start with your own navel —

the place that once connected you

to your own living mother;

and her, and your grandmother,

to all of Time’s grandmothers.

Your navel —

long known to be an entrance to whole worlds

waiting inside you.

Your navel —

a doorway, a passage, a sipapu.

Though school failed to impart this map

or way of traveling to you

these worlds within are like adjacent counties

to whole other worlds beyond you.

So, lay yourself down...and enter.

The Great Eye of your mind's eye

sparked awake like a glowing ember —

enter the cave-like corridor

that carries you into the interior.

Like entrance to any other mountain, forest, or desert valley,

quietly receive the terrain however it presents itself to you.

Travel —

with your swiveling 360-degree visioning-eye about you.

Travel through your navel to the very center of you;

into the cave-like chamber

that is a passage between the worlds that are available to you.

Moving, moving, slowly ambling along,

until the passageway opens up

and you encounter the light of day

or the shimmer of moonlight and stars

beaming down from your own inner sky.

Travel.

It may come as a great surprise to you

to learn you have a lush jungle inside of you;

or a misty mountain valley with a river flowing through,

lined with trees bejeweled with Spanish moss and dew.

But there it is.

There it is.

Here it is.

Your inner-eyes don't deceive you.

A landscape as real

as any terrain outside of you

stands at the ready

to teach, heal, and welcome you.

The next order of business

in this ancient form of traveling

is to send out a call for a guide

to give you a tour around the place.

Only you will know

who or what the guide will be

but typically you will know them

when you sense their heart and see their face.

Just as you would with any doctor,

counselor, plumber, or trout-fishing guide,

interview them to your heart's content

to make sure their way of traveling aligns.

Some general pointers

from across different cultures

for your ongoing consideration.

If at all possible, avoid spiders, scorpions, or jackals.

They aren’t very helpful and may even

leave a nasty bite or sting on you.

Snails, though they be wise in their own ways,

will make any traveling around painfully slow.

But stop for the occasional conversation with them.

Snails taught a lot to poets Issa and Bashō.

Exercise caution with fox-women, coyotes,

and redheads bearing daggers in dark capes.

Stories abound of trickery, spells, close calls, and escapes.

My own method of travel once I've entered the great frontier inside?

I ride a horse named Memory — a bond of multiple lives.


(c) 2019 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

sound: Ghost Train / Dust to Dust / Steve Roach + Roger King


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