Poem & photos by Jennifer Bloom
Tipping Point
(Featured in Sanctuary, a poetry collection
by Sisters of the Holy Pen,
edited by Pamela Eakins)
I’m startled by this field of milkweed,
which seems to have sprouted overnight.
At first I thought,
New growth; new life.
But isn’t it the same life
buried unseen for many months,
now visible in an instant?
Isn’t this the new growth
of the same seed,
the original seed,
the first seed of creation,
sprouting in fractal forms
everywhere I look?
I’ve wondered lately,
What if there is no crisis?
What if it’s an imagined story,
this tipping point
into disaster or divine?
What if we could experience
each moment as sublime,
knowing that the days
will continue to unfold
with or without us?
What if the crisis is the expectation,
that we are supposed to achieve
some outcome or another.
But if there truly is no destination,
then how can any movement be wrong?
Could we let our stories fall
into the wasteland of ideas,
let our efforts and strivings
tear us so far apart
that all that’s left is
an unguarded heart?
Maybe then we can finally feel again
the wonder of a simple moment,
free of struggle,
free of hope.
When I reflect on the past year—the expectations and disappointments, the stagnation and movement, the angst and awe—it occurs to me that the moments that were most fulfilling were the ones where I could bring a sense of absolute presence to whatever situation was unfolding. When I reflect on the past year—the expectations and disappointments, the stagnation and movement, the angst and awe—it occurs to me that the moments that were most fulfilling were the ones where I was able to bring a sense of absolute presence to the situation that was unfolding. For me, these moments of presence involved softening my judgment, allowing there to be more questions than answers, and learning to become more comfortable with not knowing. The inquiries in this poem, which began last spring as a journal musing, will surely stay with me in the coming year.
As I shift into my seasonal slowdown, this will be my last poetry timeout e-mail of 2021. I’ll be back to sharing sometime in January 2022.In the meantime, if you’d like to take an extended poetry timeout, I invite you to make yourself a cozy spot and listen to the Brainstorms Audiobook for free on Soundcloud. My reading of the book, along with brief musical interludes, takes about an hour and a half. And if you’d like to purchase a set of Artwise Poetry Roulette Cards before the new year, you can place an order through December 21.
I wish us all, and indeed all life, peace and presence, harmony and wholeness, and always love.
Until we meet again,
Jennifer
