We Who Witness the Heart (poem)

We Who Witness the Heart

We who witness the Heart are naked, walking
Bemused through countless avenues of feeling.
We are tracked by the stares of those who hide,
Cowering, not daring to look inside
The deep blue shade that's caused, somehow,
By living anywhere but now.

We wander with purpose, undermining
All the ordinary lack of meaning
Of prosaic run of the day-mill man
And woman who scrambles to sense what they can
Through the anesthetic layers of culture
Fed to them by any corporate vulture
Who can grab their hungry attention and stuff
Into their minds commercial froth and pale fluff.

You and I have met here serendipitously,
Not looking for each other, but consciously
Knowing that the Universe is not so unkind
as to prevent any true seeker from the Find
Of this lifetime--or of the string of them all--
That would burst them through this world's sensory wall
Into the Freedom that can send one flying, reeling,
Into the realms of genuine heartfelt feeling.

Here I truly, squarely stand
Stretching out this trembling hand
Holding out an olive branch
That is very nearly wrenched
From incoherent fingers
By a shaking that won't stanch
A feeling that still lingers.

My cheeks are drenched
Weeping, sobbing, belly laughing
Through the blissful pain of being.
Laughing through the pain I feel,
Knowing only Now is Real,
I extend my hand to you,
Trusting you can feel this, too.