Touch With Our Presence Poem by Margaret Alice

It was a long night, filled with dreams of
factories and supermarkets and seeking
parking, finding none, this morning the
sky is grey and overcast, wanted to start
washing, now I can’t, you appropriated
the TV, cricket is of absorbing interest,
so no uplifting movie, where shall I take
my mind for some relief from inner
pressure? Maybe one day I should do
something about my neck growing stiff
so that I can’t sleep in comfort; this might
explain negative dreams and nightmares
that so often plague me, the feather pillow
brings only emotional relief, I can’t relax
when lying down, this morning necessitates
so much existential investment – while my
positive book says simply choose love in-
stead of fear; so I’m working on a theory
that my inappropriate remarks are of a
helpful nature to those who resent my
inane stupidities as much as I resent the
words I came across in “The Choice For
Love” by Stanton and Rodegast, with one
thing I do agree – until I experience a tree,
It doesn’t exist, everything is neutral until
we touch it, without us, what we touch
with our presence would literally not
exist…

Judith Stanton and Pat Rodegast “The Choice For Love”
Introduction by Ram Dass, Bantam Books,1989, p.218