wooing the buffalo

26 Jul

Red_Buffalo_by_Cloverfish

Don’t surrender your loneliness
So quickly.
Let it cut more deep.

Let it ferment and season you
As few human
Or even divine ingredients can.

Something missing in my heart tonight
Has made my eyes so soft,
My voice
So tender,

My need of God
So absolutely
Clear.

Hafiz

I do love something so about my now.  I am not alone, as I have the constant awareness of those who need me daily.  But in the deep soul way – of  loving the soul and body of another, it is not manifest in my now – and I do not long in a desperation, I do not ache or imagine.  The skin on my wounds is smooth and comfortable to the touch.  My stance is not defensive or retreating – I do not shoulder what comes with the worry of what might happen.  I stand adult and child at once, still able to sing lullabies to the black bear, pacing in his captivity.  We never found the puma cage, eden and I, in the downpour at the animal section.  We saw the Bison rocking and had a nice talk about the buffalo woman.  Do you remember how large a buffalo is?  Is it even a sacrifice to be given to the herd?  Today it doesn’t seem so.  Can you remember the feeling when you see that head so enormous and audacious, even from a distance?  Do you remember how it feels to not care how others view you, to not care what you are wearing?  Do you remember not having ears for what others may overhear in your conversation?  The sea otters have had enough of humans and they hide in the back until the people are gone.  It is better that way.  Animals are becoming self aware and so disgusted with the humans who got here just a tiny step ahead of them.  Perhaps they will call the authorities on the frat party assholes who trashed the place and made the cages.  I will loan them my cell phone.  Have a turn gorilla, elk, and cat.  Your rhythm matches the thunder, the waves, the wind.  We no longer carry the salty sea in our veins.  We are velveeta cheese on cardboard crackers.  We are a toxic cloud.  How did I end up here, Hafiz?  I was writing to let you know I embrace my aloneness.  It is delicious; I love sleeping in the middle of my bed.  I love no phone calls anticipated.  I love marching where I will.  There is no need of anything right now – I only feel the turbulence of those who have entered here through my womb – I welcome their expressions.  I watch their show daily – and little else.  Alone is a nice spell on the ride – a raft on the river alone flows on natural currents – no need to discuss the way.  my muscles relax into the stream.

Lyrics – LovesLaughter

Breathe on me my buffalo
Your eye warms to a warning of a death without words
I am here
Laughter
Swallowing
Cups of pride
Inside it paints me
With the visions I love
For the future tributes
A tome
Sunny green

Repeat

The buffalo from buffalo who are buffaloed by the buffalo from buffalo
Buffalo are the buffalo from buffalo

And all’s above lay
Pay tribute to the death of our tome
Sunny green.

6 Responses to “wooing the buffalo”

  1. kimberlyharding July 26, 2013 at 2:45 pm #

    What an amazing posting! I love how you write about the skin on your wounds being smooth and comfortable to the touch. I am someone who uses specific images as touchstones to move through life. I will hold that image with me in the coming days, as I long for that sense you describe. Wonderful.

    • marga t. July 26, 2013 at 3:36 pm #

      I often don’t know what is true until I find it flowing out it words – I suspect it is this way for you, too. i now can see and use this sooth skin touchstone as well from your clear reflecting back to me. Thank you, Kimberly!

  2. wisejourney July 26, 2013 at 3:36 pm #

    Terrific post.
    Brimming with self awareness …thank you

  3. Michael July 27, 2013 at 1:09 am #

    Hafiz Hafiz’d my Hafiz into a state of Hafiz, and though I was not in Cadiz, well… Hafiz.

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