FIRST AID by Tadiya Dasi

(Poem introduced by the editor)

During times of darkness in our lives, there is nothing more precious than one who shines the light…

"All over the world, as autumn and winter deliver darkness, many cultures celebrate Divine Light with a ritualistic lighting of fire lamps. From the flickering of Kartika and Diwali lamps, to the lighting of menorahs, this is the season to shine, for it is said that a flame shines the brightest in a dark room.

The ritualistic lighting of candles is ultimately meant to direct our attention inward to our own spiritual light source.

When our view of our own inner light becomes eclipsed, and we give up on ourselves, losing sight of our own value, there is nothing more precious than the company of one who hasn’t.  

This poem identifies such a person as our spiritual first aid: those who resuscitate us. They are the tender touch of love that comes to take us by the hand and guide us on our path, like a bright light, in spite of ourselves. The experience can be a very powerful and invigorating one, as described by Tadiya in her poem below."

First Aid

by Tadiya Dasi

There are some journeys worth taking

and starting

a million times and once more

as there are paths

with no end in sight – love is one of them, take it

There's a pull in love

you can't escape, anyway

feel the soft wind behind your back

a tender touch

of the most important

that seems to say:

I know you need

every direction home

so keep looking and asking

at every corner of the soul

knowing,

there is something

in all this life

around you

that wants to

take you by the hand and lead you to the

something

that loves us so very much

it's startling.

Nothing makes sense

but my heart knows it's been invited

somehow I know you have entered; always you are

the first in aid,

coming to my rescue

through the back door you have slided in

and I find it astonishing; how you have

loved me

How I am

and have been

held in the hands of life that

knows the way

You have taken my hand

a long time ago

and I've held on for dear life

stuck to the marrow of your powerful

heart that beats for the Alive

built my bones

around you; fragile as I am

with you

I am  somehow intact and all together

I keep growing my roots

into this fertile land

that births saints and sages;

hoping that one day

there will be flowers

for me to offer and for you to wear;

a garland of forest flowers

still wet from the morning dew

made sweet from the light of the moon

that

always,

somehow

finds me

lifts me beyond myself

until it's just

your moonlight and my empty arms

and then there's that

love letter in my sleeve, never sent

still, I'm chased by someone

who loves me

despite myself

turns out:

there's no shutting down the soul,

no drowning it,

I have tried

for

when the soul

makes her appearance

there's not even a question

of trying to be perfect

just letting the perfect, be Perfect.

On this road to the pasture,

there are a thousand feet

jumping for joy, for him

I let them trample my need

for perfection and go

no distortion there, just dancing feet

on their way

as something light as air flutters around my skin,

a joy so subtle

it needs safekeeping. A hope so strong

I place my feet firmly on it and go

It's a relief of the soul, to come to love

and it's in that sigh of the soul,

that you rekindle your faith

and breathe life into your own soul

this is spiritual first aid:

to get to that place where you know

you can return, even when you are tired and lost

like a road weary pilgrim

you find that one path you can still take and

make that return

to the something soft and tender

that receives you like your first love: headfirst and diving deep.

Return often. Let your feet bleed from returning.

Make the same journey a thousand times, if need be.

If nothing else, the circles get deeper.

Learn this again and again:

there's  showering mercy in not knowing where you're going

no shame in coming to yourself

sometimes lost, sometimes found

for something of you returns transformed,

everytime you make that journey

to love.

See me,

my starlit eyes that keep looking,

toward the sky

my heart

that keeps slipping out and

embarassing itself

in it's need for you

see how I hope to catch it, the love of you,

like a shooting star;

my prospect for it now like a fanciful wish

but there is some light

that never goes out

and I look for it everytime I see

a star crossing the sky

I see it reflected in my own

hope-lit eyes

while that moonlight of your love

shines ever and more in the dark

reflecting a kindness

I've swam towards for lifetimes

even when there was no direction home

and still

always, somehow: I am met half-way

and had I known

that I am so close

to being held by life's loving and unexpected arms

I would have let this go

long ago and let myself fall

as in falling

there is that lap soft as clouds you never knew you'd fall into

until, suddenly

it is there,

an unexpected grace

that makes you drop whatever you held onto

for what's holding you now is so much bigger

and you let go,

hold your arms up in the air

say: take my hands

both of them

take me by the hand

call me with your buffalo horn,

awaken me

my star of Rohini

call me to your herd

let me pick fruits in the forest with you

teach me the name of every one of your cows

like a big brother,

protect me, teach me

guide me

underneath this soft moon of yours,

I can feel my feet lifting

and in that leap, I see

a thousand feet jumping for joy, for him

and

I am a puddle at your feet

so small

but called for:

you move in me like undercurrents;

my sorrow receding like the tide

I have no other word for this but

mercy

it is such a relief:

there is someone there, on this foreign land

to receive you

to revive you

spiritual first aid

a kindness that makes

your worst mistakes seem

like innocent accidents and you are forgiven

just like that

and in that freedom you walk

hand in hand

with your rescuer

a heart full of thanks

and an array of

love letters in your sleeve

that keep slipping out

while

you keep wanting to recite them

to anyone and everyone

and you think, again and again:

how you were saved from yourself

keep thanking the ones

that came,

first in aid. First in love.

~

Tadiya Dasi: "My poems are the outpourings of my heart. My inspiration comes from seeking the heart of yoga through bhakti. In poems, and in life, I seek to embrace the questions and live the answers of my heartfelt truth to the highest degree of surrender possible. I search for that truth through heart-centered, meditative, yoga practice." You may connect with Tadiya on facebook here, or via e-mail Tadiyadasi@yahoo.com.

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~