Monday, April 27, 2009

Three Poetry Offerings of Michael Graber

White Wave Devotional

You come to me for solace, to wash
away the stern face you wear to survive
civilization, to connect with a stronger
current whose rhythm sustains disaster.
You long to be one with the world, the
milky way, all the worlds within.
You yearn to taste water so salty
it could work in a womb, so teeming
with life you could end up as dinner.
Wade to where I reach your thighs.
I pull behind your knees, you fall
for it. Are you ready to surrender,
seeker? Release to this greater force.
Relax, I have taken your breath, stung
your once bright eyes. If you want
to be remade you must dissolve into me.
I like your bones. I want to bleach them
pure white. Cut your leg on my coral.
Are you strong enough? If I breathe into you
and wipe your eyes clean, will you
swim again? Will you seek the same
things here, longing to lose yourself?
Let go of my hair. That tickles. Please,
please. Why are you laughing underwater?
You might drown. You may drown. You may.

Going Fallow

Your admirable discipline must die.

Your love of knowledge plots its revenge, taking
notes from masterpieces you devoured and then forgot
the most critical details.

Your liberating rituals turned into shackles
when you tried to sell them to another.

Even God won’t tell who hid the keys and the defeated
locksmith just laughs at these mystifying,
otherworldly keyholes.

You must burn your own fields to keep yourself hungry.

It takes time for poison to ripen into medicine.

You have to lie lazy for a season.

Even if you loved before, and shattered your partners
with undulations and orgasms, you cannot guess
the next step of this dance.

Wildfire knows only its own logic.

Stop talking about ecstasy.

Taste death in your beloved’s tongue.

You have to lie down.

Lie down like an infant.

Will love suck the breath out of you?

Are you brave enough to slash and burn any illusion of growth?

Are you patient enough to do nothing for a season, even strangle
shoots from last year’s still fertile roots?

Can you stand the pressure of doing nothing?

Can you receive this gift of rest?

Going fallow takes trust.

Let your lover act like a cat in the cradle
of an old wives’ tale.

Press Harder

I will not shatter in your work-worn,
attentive hands. I am not glass, not
hard crystal. Water and warm earth,
I’m clay you work. And you walked

barefoot over rocky ground to be here.
Let me wash your feet. The scars
are not signs of sin; sin is a lack of
path prints - we discover longing

to learn belonging. A hawk glides
through a heated sky, nature’s kiln.
We inhabit the planet together. Each
acquaintance a reunion. Each touch

changes shape. Mystery will not kill
you. Mastery will not kill you. Failure
will not kill you. Love will destroy
what doesn’t work awake. Yearn,

press harder between your thumb
and forefinger, thin the vessel so
you can hear water inside. Feel what
you’ve heard since the day you were born.

About: Michael Graber is a poet, musician, and businessman from Memphis, TN. The Sufi works provide much of guidance for him.

Since 9/11 and America's response, he has written only love poetry, seeking to put this energy into the world. We are grateful for sharing of these 3 beautiful poems of his many for us. Michael can be connected via his Facebook.

Pin It Now!