Like a small bird
gathering bright objects for her nest,
I am gathering life.
Hands which reached out to me lead me on,
so I left at their bidding
for an ocean in the East.
Traveling through the night
as if lost in a waking dream,
I came at last to her proximity
and slept in an unknown room.
In the morning light,
beyond the highways,
I suddenly saw her, all April morning
blue and still.
Ocean water bathed my feet,
rinsed the crystal beads and pearls
I had worn to greet her.
Deep in the woods now, I see temples everywhere.
In the woodland light, some churches are.
Pagodas of bark and moss in the filtered light,
Ice caverns blue and still begin to melt
beside the waterfall that thunders down,
breathing mist in our faces, garlanding itself
in rainbow light.
In the small city airport
I am folded into the arms of my mother-of-pearl.
Salt water flows easily from my eyes -
like the sweet nectar filling my mouth.
"E facile per le farfalle di volare, sai."
I walk out into the grey-wet airfield,
screaming sounds of engines.
Walking forward, I close my eyes,
and the world is only light.
Now, I have come back to you,
with marzipan, and peacock feathers,
and stories of my adventures.
The light blazes, and the stars
send down their song.
The Universe is singing.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
This was written in April of 1978, after a visit to the East Coast. I was about to attend the first 'Student's Summer Sidhi Course' at Maharishi International University - which culminated with learning Yogic Flying. This is the context for my mother saying: È facile per le farfalle di volare, sai." (It is easy for butterflies to fly, you know.")
