Break Open the Cages (In Memoriam to Merrill)

I see a nest with eggs, a mother bird beside.

I want to be that bird, that nest, those eggs, all.

Each serves a function

Each has spirit and life.

But my egg is constraining,

Caged in by that awful but

Wondrous shell, the shell

That protects, the shell that

Limits, the shell that is both

Necessary and there to be

Broken apart when I am growing

Too big to stay in, too pretzled to move,

So tired of being so young and good.

I want to break out.

But only when I am ready, grown up

Enough to lose the shell that encases me,

Still protecting me but keeping me

From exploring many other parts of life,

The air, the sand, the sea, the wind,

The mountains, trees and flowers.

The shell Interferes with connecting to others
Who are like me but not like me,
Sometimes wonderfully loving, exciting,
Calm and true, and sometimes
Breaking me up into little

Pieces that shatter without having that

Shell to keep me from flying apart.

Speaking of flying, I want to not just

Escape this shell (or, rather shells),

I want to fly not away but toward

The Now of my life,

Each day, each moment, now.

Flying helps because I am nimble,

Light and strong, and can rush toward

The altar that I desire only to wing away

When a fire destroys this altar and

Every little piece of faith I ever had.

Faltering, swooping, not really free yet.

I must eat, I must sleep, I must also

Find safety not in a new shell but in a slick, flexible

Membrane with porous openings all around,

So that I can still breathe the air, smell

The flowers, get lost in the trees and

Rest deeply in the safe new nest that

I have built for myself.

A new nest with sights and sounds,

Height and balance, I can swing throughout

The trees on vines like a monkey, or I can

Rest beside the trunk, the north side of moss.

Soft, sequestered, damp and moist, I

Awaken once again into my Self

My true being, broken apart, torn up and

Scarred, but still curious and open to my

New Life, New Love, risking all just to be

Free.

(Written at the July 2017 Crazy Brave workshop with Tobi Fishel and Merrill Farnsworth. I did not know that Merrill was ill. In Memoriam to Merrill.)