Trapeze


I see myself as a catcher on a trapeze and there is no net below. On the other side are a group of words that will soon come flying through the air. My job is to catch them in the right order! So on with the show.

First the suspense must mount. I must climb carefully onto my old desk chair and limber up my hands a few times. The spotlight must play on the screen of my Mac and it would help to have some Leonard Cohen playing as I get ready to entertain the circus crowd.

The words themselves are poised opposite me in the arena, high above the audience. They are resining up their hands and shaking themselves to loosen up. And the ringmaster is getting ready to say, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Flying Words!

I swing back and forth a few times, as far out as I dare to go (wink, wink), and the audience is totally quiet, in anticipation of the sight of words flying through the air. Will they take the bar one by one or in sentences or phrases?

But enough of that. On with the show. Here are the very words that I am given to write.

The circus is just in town briefly and then it moves on. You will stay behind.

You will go home and re-enter your ordinary life. No cotton candy, no diversions. Just your garden-variety life.

That, my friends, is the greatest show on earth.

No spectacle, just you living and breathing in the moment. No eye is trained on you, no tricks are being performed. Just reality.

When the words have flown across the field of your vision, what’s left is what really matters.

You.

A Shining Light

The ego is a machine configured to protect you but it does the exact opposite. To see this does not get rid of the ego. Oh, no, ridding oneself of ego requires more humility than the ego has in its pocket.

Forget those who dispense instant enlightenment out of their mental gum ball machines. For most of us, going to the guru is just wishful thinking. And did I say that the ego is made up of wrong thoughts and feelings that keep us in the dungeon of the castle?

I bumped into a hard-assed guru that kicked us like a bully and then said if we didn’t come back for more, we were finished. I loved him.

He knew every tactic of the ego. He knew it wanted to be able to put a guru on a pedestal and thereby glorify its own reflection. It was said that he was a very kind man but his teaching tactics were what they were.

To this day I am trying to get onto my ego so I can get it to quit tailing me.

I see way off in the distance a shining light.

At Ease


I have fallen in love
with poetry I make
like you shake
a snow globe
blobs of
cold weather
words forming
fronts and backs
and inside outs.

Raining down
on my stiff neck
and thawing out
my spinal column
in its weird love
of arranging
everything
in rows like
marching
soldiers.

At ease, words.
The war between
body and soul
has ended.
Truth to tell,
I saw white doves
flying in a
perfect circle
inside my head.

Vicki Woodyard