Crucible and Chalice

I am one of the silly ones who has made a vocation out of my own psychological, energetic and spiritual awakening. I do not mean a job or career – although – I work in that industry. Rather, I have made arduous labor of my own unfolding. T

he lines below capture my thinking – rather than my heart’s awareness. This poem reflects the conceptual awareness I seemed to require along the way of moving back into my heart – the one I had exiled myself from long before.

Forte and foible. A community of self,
innocently fashions its biography,
sculpting tomorrow’s now.

Mortar and pestle breaking away my  
heart’s protective husks.

Hitherto unaware of my exile,
blind to the constraining banality
of my prosaic and metered life;
I understood conceptually, of course.

The juggernaut of my understanding is
wholly insufficient,
for knowing is the province NOT of an
understanding intellect,
but of the human heart
and her fields of Wisdom’s Grace.

I, a refugee, dream of repatriation,
to the contours of beauty
in my Life’s poetic humus.

©2009 Stephen Victor