August 11, 2016

Rise & Fall. {Poem}


“Depression, when we work with it, can be like a signal, something that puts a brake on our excesses and reminds us of the banality of the samsaric condition, so that we will not be duped into sliding back into the old habits again. It reminds us of the futility, insignificance and non-substantiality of the samsaric condition.” ~ Depression’s Truth, by Traleg Rinpoche


I was one of those who lived quite happily in the charmed, bedazzled world of illusion known in Buddhist terms as samsara.

Then, for no particular reason, a few years ago that all changed. With this abrupt disruption of my unexamined life came an outpouring of poetry, prose, painting and, frankly, unacceptable behavior. Also came the bouts of depression. That’s when my world began crumbling beneath me.

Through counseling, yoga and my art I have come to realize that, for me, this is a process of spiritual awakening. I am on a Heroine’s journey and I am stronger and more free than I ever knew was possible.


I rise, I fall,
the swell of life empties me
into a vast blue expanse

Wind lifts my stories and
flings them in all directions

Only objects fastened with
can withstand her fury

She lifts me up,
long enough for me to lick the salt
off ocean’s blue brow,

long enough for me to be buoyed
by her weighted presence.

Then comes the flatness
once again,

Then I am gone
once again.

Reality exists in the elemental expression—

A touch awakens me
I rise like a pancake in buttered heat

The moon beckons me
I rise and dance
with the salmon fly’s honeyed rye
in the full-mooned eve

Desire awakens me
My moon pie rises
to vertical shades’ slanted light

for a moment—

Blue eyes’ light-dappled lashes
brush away all signs of dust and ashes

Clear-eyed innocence gazes
in wonder
at rosy-pink clouds
adorning a sunlit sky
like a virgin maiden veil.


Wind rises again
moving through space,
repelling all who wish to be near

Space cries out in anguish.

Wind cloakes
in impenetrable silence.

My feet glide through a flurry
of dancing dust devils

Munch’s Scream
is my only companion.


Author: Melanie Jackson

Image: Nyarlotep/Deviantart

Editor: Caitlin Oriel

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Melanie Jackson