A body temple
in the woods.
A name inscribed
in the book
of breezes,
a student of mystery,
only that I wonder
about the sound
of buzzard’s wing feathers
as I surprise him in repose –
that, and I wonder too
about the color of his head
so red,
mirror of
his last meal:
tendon
muscle
blood.
Question for the ages:
how does an alligator hold on
in a current,
his eyes and snout only
above the tide
to take in air,
to surprise his prey?
Need I study anything else?
Sun, moon, hermetic mysteries,
numbers, spirits, places to travel.
I’ve cut my connections with
my sewing sheers,
and set myself adrift
in unknowing,
everywhere there is no seat on the pew.
Who is leading this service?
The minion of trees
are gathered
and versed in the most ancient of prayers
whispered today,
the holies of holy
where their leaves mark
the start of sky.
Alligator holding still, can you see him?
Life as Improv 
this is beautiful – who is leading this service? Need I study anything else? Well that sums it up in a way doesn’t it? thank you!
I was going to say the same thing, I love ‘Need I study anything else?’ No, there doesn’t seem to be a need!
Great piece, thank you.
Feels like a chorus came to answer my solo questions in the woods – on the breeze it feels like. Thank you, Kellie! xo! marga
So nice to hear your voice, Margaret. 😉 I appreciate the validation for stepping away from traditions can sometimes stir up the questions. thank you! marga
Wonderful!
Rising Hawk, thank you! I love the image of your swaggering about with a sherry and cigar – a fun image in such bold contrast with your generous sharing of space and words. You are a well-rounded avatar player here in this time on a little strange planet. (Am I right?) xo! marga
Haha! I guess . . . then again, I don’t really know 😉 Peace . . .
Reblogged this on The Fires Inside and commented:
Another brilliant piece from “Life As Improv.” If I had written this I would probably take up smoking fine, Cuban cigars while sipping Sherry and gloat for a week 😉
‘How does an alligator hold on in a current?’
I think they can slow their heartbeat almost to a still and retain the necessary level of oxygen for buoyancy at surface level or below. Oh dear, how terribly mundane of me; I’ll go back to staring into space now – that’s enough brainwork for the day.
A wonderful work Marga – many congratulations!
Hariod. ❤
You are tipping your hand a bit from your Advanced Staring into Space Techniques Class – I hadn’t seen the connection until you spelled it out for me. The heartbeat slowing, the oxygen, the buoyancy – all coming out of the stillness which you are so present within as you stare into space, but unlike the alligator, you are preying on emptiness and pouncing with the bubbling up knowledge from the deep. Keep pointing; day by day I begin to stop looking at the finger. xo! marga
H ❤
Sounds like a glorious stroll through the outdoor Cathedral of Vast Unspeakables. A holy day indeed! An alligator is a marvelous companion for such an enfolding I think. They always strike me as so raw and primal- like ancient, snaggle-toothed, always smiling (in the children’s books), chestnut-brained authenticities. Having one in relative proximity keeps us from doing too much thinking… We get that contact high of heightened simplicity…
I had a soccer coach once when I was in middle school who was an aspiring actor, and he took me to the movie set on this B-movie horror film he was in where the family had an alligator instead of a dog. So they had to put this alligator in a doghouse and then get a shot of it chilling out. But “chilling out” wasn’t quite in that fellow’s repertoire, and soon all the complex-brained soft skins were scrambling for the tops of camera rigs, pick-up trucks, equipment trunks and lighting scaffolds. Then his soft-skinned friend dove on his back and duct taped his mouth shut, and that was that. I still remember but that alligator probably forgot within twenty seconds.
Millions of years and no memories. That’s what we’ve forgotten how to pull off. 🙂
Michael
Utterly delightful alligator tale! I appreciate the reminder of my soft skinnedness – for sometimes I forget and wander close as though mesmerized by the groovy reptile skin and stillness of mind after all those millions of years. (may I borrow your compliment, if the occasion ever arises – “chestnut brain authenticity”?:) m
Of course. Not all recipients of such a compliment may interpret it as such, but there is holiness in simplicity. 🙂
Mas y mas, I am only interested in being alone, or with ones who get the compliment 🙂
Nice overlap, Ms. lovely Andrea of Solrevel.wordpress.com, sent me off on a music tangent yesterday, in which I spent some time here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YsgP8LkEopM
at the 1:47 mark I was captivated by this soft-skinned tamer – she didn’t need duct tape! 🙂 I can get lost in these lovely lyrics!
I’m so glad you found an alligator instead of the wily croc… false tears and such. Okay… enough.
What an adventure you’ve taken us into! I love this… and haven’t a single, creative response. Just enjoying, without thought. 🙂
Wily croc, whole other outing, for sure. The rituals associated with the day of this outing do involve usually some tears and beating upon the breast bone. I so enjoyed instead the cleared out space of this tromping around adventure; I am feeling addicted to such outings – wishing for another hit upon the peace pipe of nature. You are often there, and here, I know, ~m!
Amazing writing. I’m so glad our paths have crossed here today. Thank you.
Such a lovely overlapping world, today!