Katabasis Endured

Autonomic upheaval, Guided into catharsis and transformation, By the healing hands, And pure heart, Of a woman, Who through sheer selflessness, Silently moves through the world, Picking up crumbs, Dusting off souls, Making beds for the weary.

Katabasis endured, Through her refusal to abandon, Through friends' understanding, Through the sky-bound words of a spirited elder, Through strict routine, Through patience, grace, mercy, and repentance.

Universal experience, personalized. A war of attrition or a chrysalis? The compass points up at pinkbluegrey cloud jubilee.

Each day's end, the mother of all watercolor paintings, shewn about across half the earth, wrapping the sphere with a moving wave of colored bliss,

A band border across when viewed from space, is somehow self-same as skyfields of purple and orange sunset burst.

Why do we link anything? All phenomena are born free from our conceptual shackles, Contracts binding disparate experience, Only to give us the illusion of dominion.

Egoic aggrandizement, Birthed from insecurity, We pay for the illusion with the high price of living in our heads,

Cut from splendor, Occluded from direct experience, At a feast of facts with no nourishment.

Coming back to the body, Which won't be ignored, It barks, moans, and weeps, Then offers it's own jubilee, A ram's horn trumpet sounding the dawn of a new birth, Vibrating forth from the sunset of yesterday's dissolve.