The Graciousness Of Experience.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i justify it
before myself.
down into the
caves of death
we walk to know
it much better
to see clearly
its face and listen
to its voice.
of course, it is
frightening.
the thought that
we can go back
to that door
would not have
been possible
until the graciousness
of experience
lays the way towards
it and opens its
door even without
a magic word.
there is no magic
here. it is the
graciousness of experience
the humility of subjecting
ourselves to his
original mess to fully
understand it.
i was there i only
feel it and to say
that i understand it
is a lie.

i come out as a dove
from Noah's ark
faithful to my promise
to tell you about my
new world which shall
be ours,

mine to write now.
and yours to wonder
whether it is really
true.

this is the graciousness
of experience
the enumeration of pains
the description of what
is hell
and it is not other
people but us
experiencing fire
and feeling its horrors.

it is not hell as written
it is hell as experienced.

it was you there and
myself. we fathomed the
secrets of our beings.

i come out then as
an open wound
less the blood of
my imagining.