The wind is blowing a hole
in my heart
Its saying don’t be an idiot.
Its saying don’t be fragile in a strong time
Its saying the still small voice of god is nothing
To scoff at, its saying
There is nothing to be afraid of
But winds are like coins tossed in fountains..
Lucky ones are only lucky for the lucky
All the rest of us have to wait.
What exactly I am waiting for is beyond me really..
Some sign from heaven
Some word written on stone
Some parting of red water that will
Tell me I am on my way home.
If home is where the heart is,
Mine is a wanderer. My heart which has
Seen everything it sought beauteous and even pain is
Settled into a rhythm of rhyme and reason
rhythm and blues. Bluest but best times
Snaking in and out of the fast-laned highway
Of memory.
I have no regrets of anything I've ever done
Only what I neglected to do, being too cowardly
or too stonehearted.
I want a softer courage now, one that doesn’t
Need to bend the world to my making
But will let it flow around my currents like
A river tide. If acceptance was never anything I courted,
suddenly its zen appeals.
And I will wait for luck to decide that intention
Is everything.
And because I have confidence
in my intention
I will be lucky
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love the brave acceptance of the crazy world flowing by, that lives in here. 'I will wait for luck to decide that intention is everything'- just so perfect!