At first the voice of wisdom spoke through others
(When I was a child)
then it spoke through me indirectly
(Before I was old enough to know better)
then to through me directly
(Even though I was asleep)
then at me specifically
(While I was dreaming)
and when I did not acknowledge the sound
it arranged for every force of the universe
to kick my heart
pound my body
and melt my brain
until soft wisdom whispers
became shouts of thunder in my mind
the echoes of it followed me about
shouting at me generally
then at me specifically
then at me directlly
and the voice said “said pick up your pencil”
I said “my handwriting is illegible”
so it led me to a forest and sat me on a blanket
it gave me some medicine
that loosed my tongue and said speak
and I said “I am shy, and nobody listens to me anyway”
so it turned me over to the spirits
who kicked my ass
and set my tongue on fire and they all said speak
I said “about what?”
and they gave me some medicine
and arranged for me to gain experience
saying open your eyes
and open your heart
they gave me a disease
and said doctor heal yourself
and they left the gate open for the medicine to take or not
depending on my diligence to follow their instruction
so I picked up the pencil
and I let my fingers fly
I breathed in the smoke of purification
and planted the wild heirloom seed
and drank the filtered water
and ate the honey
and drank the milk
and crushed the herb
and regarded the egg as a gift
that spoke not only of sustenance
but of the secrets of an endless universe
and I communed with earth in the language of flowers
and reached for the stars that are tethered by life
through the love of those mothers and fathers long gone
and to the children of a new tomorrow
and from these threads of time and decision
I weave a story of my life on the loom of space
and whose warp and woof is the history of connection
and whose design is none but my own.

~ P.J.B. White