Six Degrees of Acceptance

“I believe that the imagination is the passport we create to take us into the real world. I believe the imagination is another phrase for what is most uniquely us.” 

― John Guare, Six Degrees of Separation

Where earth meets the sky,
between which is the vision,
always held in six degrees of separation,
yet the heart rises connected by being soulfully alive

of cerulean promise
and the nascent being,
a pebble in the sand did shift as the tides moved in

witnessing that pied piper lurk upon that fragile path
towards the glass house,

behests the guard to the doors but the fairyland shattered
the hearth crumbled
and I shivered even as the heat scorches the world

lost in the gravity pull into a fog so dense

blinded, unable to even see my own hands
floundered across the berg
to find you
but instead was swallowed by an odyssey of painful laments

the trampled roots behest these nomadic expeditions

into a plague of snakes with a tumbleweed mind
desperate for some fortitude to seed this desert path

but I, a muted being, cauterized
with ‘without an I’ — my truth darkened by shadows
and fettered by the piper’s six degrees

fingers raw in the dearth–a provenance
of ubiquitous scraping, gentrifying, seeking a place where the six degrees
would no longer be a distance between essence, truth and the other

the verity crystal reflects in authentic harmony

Where earth meets sky,
is the vision,
best held in accepting the six degrees of separation so the heart rises connected by being soulfully alive

in a wisdom that nature conveys of letting go when pushed
as the wind gusts, to transform, in witness of the tree rooting
around the rocks and the sea glass softening in waves

it is with a simple hearth in this time and space oh so slowly
hammering down purgatory walls and in this grimy toil
with a gentle sweep of the hearth the hemlock sways in the knowing

and the wolf within stands up to the wolf at the door

let it rest, in my Teton guesthouse, with my voice speaking the esse of souls
at the hearth of the heart, where I have been, all along.

in equanimity,
namasté, Leah J. 🕊

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