Under a mango tree

I'm not sure it's worth being on steemit anymore...

Under the mango tree in the hot heat
Of too many loud thoughts
That churns on and on,
Who is the mysterious stranger?
Who comes into my dreams?
And rattles the cage
With the singing leaves of too bright
And wakes me up
Through the crack of doom
And echoes some name I can never remember?
So snorkelling here,
Around and in between
And aspiring to the big unseen
With so many yesterdays giving me hiccups
A bust a dust in it all,
To roll on and on to be a star-drop
Amongst some parade to come on and play.
And then without any warning,
Up pops the secret wanderer
Spreading daylight on my dreams
So out from that cover I spring
To the cold shower of hard intent
And a coffee of black milk
With the sun a pale reflection
Of the brightness
Casting soft shadows in my awareness
To settle moment by moment
Up through the morning digging the day.
The biting wind of spinning redemption
Freezes my toes to inform me
Of a rumour to allay my fears
I must make room for
As the passing searching adventures on.
Crystal clear are the visions among the desires
That come and go
Singing alley-alley oh,
Some transport to cart them away
To where they belong and yet, hold!
One comes near to nose around
And bring me back to myself,
Indigent in my awakening
And responsible for my language to myself
Even through my darkest hour.
Anon I stand,
A tune playing on the edges
And as over and over it plays,
And seeking to remember the song,
I catch snatches of memory
To suggest what it is and yet,
To aspire to the new of every moment,
Another song and beautiful as love.
And then focusing and tuning in
To move on from that
As the wind must move or expire,
Tentatively to explore,
I arise from the supine of my dreams
To find the possibilities as firm as I need them,
Miraculous stepping stones
That appear to my questing feel
To lead me out of the dark pit
Into the brightness of all I’ve asked for.
Applaud and call down the gods of this
To lead me away and on,
The dance, remembered at last.
This food will not starve me
With its delicious taste of acceptance;
And as a prayer,
An offering to open me up to a finding of me,
A knowing,
With a plenitude of trust
There is no doubt to trouble,
No wasted space,
No lack of grace in the swirling tides
To take me home in the boat of love.
And not this or any other dream
Can pretend more than it seems
In that dawn of my understanding
When the truth finally sinks in
And I come up for air
And look around me to see where I am
And find the pressing needs rampant to take me away again.
Later,
Rolling over to come up again
To find the world made by the very thoughts I think
In the changing rooms of life
Where the return fare
Is too prestigious a price to pay
For the weight I carry;
And so shrugging it off
I learn it was never mine anyway.
So with a thousand love pardons
And an iced tea of relief
I drop notes in the ocean
To build my tomorrows like a bridge
To the moon of my life
Where only I can go
To receive the blessings
And know nothing is the way it seems
And only my feelings can show me the way onwards.
Take this map and burn it
And never look back at the ashes
Of all that’s gone
And in the constantly changing
Find that place in my heart that remains the same.
Now don’t worry if they dismiss me
Out of hand or laugh
When they see me coming down the road,
That’s their problem,
And if they made it then they have to unmake it;
For rebellion is a strange momentum
And over a good cup of coffee I can progress to hero status
But if I find myself anytime too soon
And most especially shaking on the back of a motorbike
Then scroll down a page or two
And get out of the hot sun, and of course,
Never let it go to my head
For in the precious moments of life and death
With all things being equal
A moment is all it takes to say: merde,
Which is French by the way.
So I must not lose my cool
For anything less
Than the real of all my dreams to come true.

Image from Pixabay