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did Darwin rest in any more comfortable chair
with the sloshing sounds of expanding leaves
floating and dancing in their brown betty’s
or crisp china vessels
with the water just past its bubbling
and fancy… what rails the discussions
and pops the imagination from it’s set tracks
and long foreseen predictability
what brings new talk of worlds
that exist but have never been seen
and people who nuances are not the same
who’s methods form the undiscovered worlds..
indigenous… relentless …
how can those who see without the use of the brown betty
or browner bean and bubbling water
how can they see this world undiscovered
how can they see the things that we few can
with our talk and our understanding
and our technology beeping in flashing greens…
how that can happen
at the same time
I see the rush of humanity
trying to find their reason
trying to be reasonable
or just trying…
oh they are so trying
I slump back
and the chair becomes a choir
and bemoans a soft sound
the fingers cease their flash
and inspiration rolls around
to settle like the leaves of some foreign tea
at rest on the bottom of the pristine whiteness of my cup

Hi RKG,

I like your poem very much, espec.

- the way the rhythm changes and intensifies, mirroring the shift of thoughts swirling around in the narrator's head...

- your choice of tea-ritual imagery to illustrate that respite from the norm is necessary, if we are to open the way for inspiration and lateral thought.

I ended up with the feeling that I grasped – yet didn't quite grasp – the central meaning of the poem; a very 'open' feeling – hope that's what you intended.... I'll go have a cup of tea now

PS Is there a tiny typo in line #11? ('people who('s?) nuances...')

Thank you Imaginary friemd... for your kind words...

you know with me i see this writing as a process of getting myself ... my ego.. out of the way and then the words come ...when they want to.... from the beyond, from the divine... as a grace ... asa shining light of enligtnment... whereever.... they come from they are there and have always been there... and like the water behind the tap that i turn i may not know how it got there exactly... but i accept i and use it and am refreshed by it...

the words seem to tumble and i tap them down... and then go back after the rush to correct spelling and sort into lines...few very few changes or additions in words ...but some...

there is a misty rain and i think its time to walk

namaste
Robin

Real human nature is truth and love. Mind and heart are the
means of its expression.

- Fire without Fuel
Baba Hari Dass