Why I Have A Crush On You, UPS Man

Why I Have A Crush On You, UPS Man

you bring me all the things I order
are never in a bad mood
always have a jaunty wave as you drive away
look good in your brown shorts
we have an ideal uncomplicated relationship
you’re like a cute boyfriend with great legs
who always brings the perfect present
(why, it’s just what I’ve always wanted!)
and then is considerate enough to go away
oh, UPS Man, let’s hop in your clean brown truck and elope !
ditch your job, I’ll ditch mine
let’s hit the road for Brownsville
and tempt each other
with all the luscious brown foods —
roast beef, dark chocolate,
brownies, Guinness, homemade pumpernickel, molasses cookies
I’ll make you my mama’s bourbon pecan pie
we’ll give all the packages to kind looking strangers
live in a cozy wood cabin
with a brown dog or two
and a black and brown tabby
I’m serious, UPS Man. Let’s do it.
Where do I sign?

“Why I Have A Crush On You, UPS Man” by Alice N. Persons, from Don’t Be A Strange

I am just back from a couple of weeks of vacation. It is hard to believe July is racing to a finish. I was at a beautiful NH lake and was able to share time and space with family and friends, eat great food, talk about great ideas and thoughts, write poetry, finish my exams, and enjoy time away from the regular routine of home.

This seventh month of my journey with “A Year to Live” is supposed to be about creating a place to die and leave this world peacefully. Creating a shrine of what my life is about has been wonderful. I have flowers and books that have helped me think clearly. I have candles and a Buddha, a crucifix and a mirror, quotes and words important to me. I don’t really have photos at the shrine areas (yes, there is more than one) because I already have so many photos of my friends and family around. I feel pretty unattached to things and people right now. The shrines, in some weird way, feel like grounding places for me. I can notice that I am here and of a much greater experience and universe at the same time. It feels so simple and freeing. . .a celebration really.

Here’s a draft of a poem I wrote last week. I think it works for month seven.

Nobody knows
I’ve died this year,
that my body is returning to the earth,
slipping into the water of the miracle.
Mile after mile, no longer dipping just a toe
to check the temperature
of this pleasure.
My head is pointing toward the grave.
My feet walking away from home.
I have begun living in code—the one
where I can rock in the boat of quiet hours,
sealing my inner harbor,
safe from any storm.

There is no more trying to surprise God.
The aspects of Eve that live in my days
and in my nights,
in my blood and in each of the bones
of my ribs, each surrounding and guarding
my heart. . .
These pronounce each syllable,
each beat loud and clear.

I am a woman who has turned the corner
and can let go of the mystery. Instead,
I know I am the mystery.
I have understood with each conversation
the new language I speak.
I alone know the power of these words.
I awake with symbols of birds
and fish etched into my skin,
and the flowers—
the lily and the lotus bloom
in the glorious sound of the music
flowing from my soul.

This birth, from the child curled within,
stretches and offers her hand in thanksgiving
toward the opening universe.

Daisies

In a perfect life
you bring me daisies,
sprinkle them on the morning’s table
of our life together—
gather them gently from June fields,
enormous bunches
left humbly at my feet

or next to the cool sheets of a bed
where we find each other,
our bodies free to explore like children
discovering the magic of fireflies
at dusk.

You drag the white petals softly
over my eyes
closed in meditation
dreaming of waking
to the greatest mysteries of these days.

We are each other’s guide
to the peace of flowers
and only knowing
the enormous pull
of love.

I am in this world and of the greater universe at the same time. I am spirit and mind. This is a balance I can come to understand more fully by just being present to my life. What an amazing realization to follow and an almost unreal lightness to this awareness.

Respect and Honor

One should honor women.
Women are heaven, women are truth,
Women are supreme fire of transformation.
Women are Buddha, women are religious community,
Women are the perfection of wisdom.
--Candamaharosana-tantra Scripture
Reading about women and leadership in education is bringing me to more and more wonderful corners of knowledge. This is a passage that keeps bringing me to the truths about the ways women can be honored and respected by some cultures and religious practices. By digger deeper and deeper to find these ideas and ways in which building them into daily life is useful and healing, I’m able to uncover places that bring new lightness and understanding. What can be wrong in any circle of experience where we honor women and treat them as we would any who would bring us closer to truth and wisdom. . .even transformation if we are very attentive? I want to be a woman of wisdom that is welcomed into such a world. I want to be a creature of transformation with the power of supreme fire. I’m certain that kind of knowledge and action is within my reach if I can focus and move closer with each day of my experience of this life.

Near the Bottom of the Soul

Is it possible to find myself my true self
so near the bottom of the soul--
so empty the echo rings off the sides of this space
like the pebble dropping into a well
dug by hand
by one experienced
in longing?

I am so near empty tonight
even tears are hard to bring up
as witness to a life
unworthy of reflection.
Why cry when the slate is so blank?
Why mourn a loss unrecognized by no one?
What meaning can be found in nothing?

Alone, unaccounted for,
no one waits to hear the reverberations,
the sound that comes again from a call
into the darkness.

Looking up at death
is so easy.
Looking back on this life
I step away into the darkness
relieved of the body
searching for something soft to hold onto—
a child’s hand in the depth of night
probing for the comfort of warmth
of the breast or some small, sweet gesture
of humanity.

Tonight I keep death close
as a reminder
to breathe.