The Secret Cause

There is a secret about our lives
hidden in our days and dreaming nights.
It lies before us having been born
when we were born and began.

It is the path where no one has ever gone
and no one will ever go again,
the one we make for ourselves each moment
when we think no one knows or cares.

Each step a choice among the thousand choices
picking our way through briars and brambles 
on a way that once seemed clear and straight
but now we are lost on tortuous holy grounds.

We find ourselves in the thrall of liminal space
held within the arms of broken time
where the past flies fast away
where what comes we cannot always choose.

Shall we believe in the lives we've led
given all arguments to the contrary?
We must. We must hold to the way
we began when we fell from darkness into light.

We do not know the secret cause
travelling with us through our days
though it is ours alone, our dear companion,
cherished and named - our soul.
___________________________________________________________________
Portland, Oregon - April 25, 2022

This, from Joseph Campbell in "Thou Art That, Transforming Religious Metaphor:" 

"The secret cause of your death is your destiny. Every life has a limitation, and in challenging the limit you are bringing the limit closer to you, and the heroes are the ones who initiate their actions no matter what destiny may result. What happens is, therefore, a function of what the person does. This is true of life all the way through. Here is revealed the secret cause: your own life course is the secret cause of your death."

April Snowfall

In this spring season it is rare 
to see upon the budding ground 
snow, what winter forgot to give
and just now thought to bring.

Bended branches, unbroken,
slowly lose the weight of snow.
They rise, shake themselves off,
wonder about all the fuss.

Broken branches litter the yard,
lie in the street, crumble in the drive.
They have done their giving part -
birthed sweet leaves of green.

In any season we may be broken
by the coming of unexpected snow.
Yet we have given birth to sweetness
that in all seasons never dies.
____________________________________________________________
Portland, Oregon - April 11, 2022

Written following the first recorded snowfall in April, in Portland. It also seems fitting for this Holy Week when some consider the meaning of death and resurrection.