--for a warrior on the path

I went to the well tonight to draw water

looked over the edge

down into the darkness

that has always been a reliable mirror,

a quencher of deep thirsts.

It was empty.


At first, it made me think of my Irish ancestors

and all their striving and starving and yearning and stories...

of how old wells could run dry

and the underground rivers that fed them

could 'Up and Move'

if someone hadn't honored them, properly.


I wondered what ancient river inside of me

I had ignored for the water of life to run dry on a rainy night.


Then, I realized the vision wasn't about me.


Like the Hawk of Achill taking flight,

the eyes of my heart-mind were whisked up

on the high winds of night.

I was carried across nine glowing waves

and shown a moment in time when life made more sense;

when there was a magic order to things

and every moist day was saturated in mystery.


I needed to see that, freshly, to be able to see you, clearly.


Time has passed.

You've taken your warrior-self on another adventure.

Tenacious. Beautiful. Fighting your way through, as always.

And now I know, that this place is the empty well

and you are the life-giving river that has moved on

because you were not honored here.


This is not a poem...even though you asked for one. 

It is a katana-prayer slicing through air.


My deepest wish for you

is that the deepest parts of you

can one day put down the battle

and let yourself truly be held

in a cradle of loving sunlight.

(c) 2017 / Pure Land Poetry / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

image: "The Bath - Portugal", philosopher-photographer, Ted Seymour

This poem appears in The School of Soft-Attention, now available for order from Homebound Publications or Amazon.com