christmas tree


By Ruth Lera


What do you say at the dinner party when there is not that much me
Do you talk about the weather and how it looks like it might snow

Because when the soul runs the show
And the complaints dissipate into a thin mist
That explodes out of the body
And into pure clear
As fast as it entered
Then there can be so much less to talk about
I don’t like things is such a connection point for conversation
Whereas I am expansive and powerful
And in love with the black and white
Portrait that is winter solstice
Out my window
Can seem like too much for people to handle
When two moose collide on the trail
Antlers poised
How do they greet
With a nod to the tastiest willow bushes
With a bow of the head to the deep snow their legs just hurtled through

And the wolves see this meeting and they hover
Knowing their food is close
But not fated

Each day I notice that there so little about this moment that needs a me
And I keep pushing away from this
The fact that there is so little to do

Even as I toss and turn in my bed

Worrying over my to do list that I am sure will never get done

And then somehow the coffee makes itself
And the snow on the front steps eventually goes away
Even if not until spring
The phone rings and someone says hello
And suddenly all the frustration at the solitude of the journey
Melts in the presence of their loving voice

I am here seems the only prayer

I am here and I will be here longer then I can ever know
And I will do stuff and go places and have regrets
This is for certain
But the I of my equation is ready to soften
And when this happens what will I say at the dinner party
That I don’t know anything but I seem to be sitting across from you right now
And your eyes are nice
And I like the tone of your voice
And I hope you are happy even if that means being sad for awhile
And even though I seem articulate and capable
Mostly I lie in bed in doubt
Or I might say nothing
I might just sit and smile like a big fat Chinese Buddha
Beaming my emptiness into outer space

And if it is you that happens to be sitting across from me at the dinner party
If it is you
Perhaps you will extend your hands
And give my arms a little soft squeeze
And say to me I see you
Even if there isn’t that much me to see


Photo: (source)

Editor: Dana Gornall



Follow me
Latest posts by Ruth Lera (see all)