The Rules of Engaging Grief

A walk on the beach at dawn prompted this reflection.

“Heard”

Did sun below
A cloud bank at dawn
Notice him direct
On the beach alone?

Is that why it tipped
Gold-leaf light forward
To form a narrow path
On glitter-flat water,

For a dolphin pod
To approach so close
As if to hear distinct
Soft murmurings of a soul?

I still remember fifty years ago seeing the three questions carved above the altars of a Jesuit seminary — where did I come from, why am I here, and where am I going. These last few days, I have been thinking again about the answers. Perhaps, a rereading — there have been several — of Kazantzakis’ Zorba The Greek influenced my reflection. Here is the poem:

“Recognized”

Whither is a region
Shadow dark where hardly
Distinguishable we roam
Unknown — one without another.

Here consciousness seeds us
Awash in soul-color splash,
Life-light dazzles blazes
That radiate – beckon

Through a portal spiral
Swirl dance melody love
Amidst eternal pulsing time,
Now recognized yet one.