Scribe
Scribe
2017
Mrs. E
Mrs. E, the Pear Tree in our yard,
birthed a couple of babies last year,
though young, perhaps she will bear
more fruit this time around.
“I regenerate every nineteen years …
this is my twelfth time,”
she told us on the inner planes,
one night a year or so ago,
when I had slipped the gravity of earth
left my own body sheath
to its own kind of regeneration.
The she being Erma,
for whom Mrs. E was planted
and affectionally dubbed.
She too bore fruit
of the spiritual kind—
season after season
for so long a time.
She had given up teaching
in mortal form three years back
Myself and other travelers
of the “fourth kind,”
met up with her that night
in a younger manifestation.
Missive to the Lords of Karma:
We were not abducted by E;
we came of our own accord
Flying without a license,
notwithstanding.
In truth, encountering E
is more like an encounter
of the omni-kind,
similar to run-ins with Dap Ren.
Traveling with D or E is like
ingesting spiritual steroids
That “horse is made to run.”
More happened, more is recorded
somewhere within me
to come out at some
inexplicable moment
when I’m not even thinking
about anything.
Ah hah! … Not thinking.
Dream and thinking seem
to have a lot in common.
Thinking recalls things,
associates and sorts them
by concept and time
and spatial reference points.
Reverie’s also about recall,
the calling forth of memories,
the going to sleep
from now and here
to then and there.
If reverie is akin to dreams
how do we recall non-dream?
Could it be a level of non-thinking,
where contemplation reaches
beyond memory to direct perception?
Could lucid dreaming be
only priming the pump
for enlightened reverie?
Maybe Erma will have
something to say about that
when I least expect it.
* (Erma Pounds – Nov. 25, 1925 – Feb. 5, 2011)
Friday, June 9, 2017