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  • Home
  • Explore My Clinic
  • Blog
    • Blog: Spiritual Spaces and Flourishing Faces
    • Archived Blog: Rabbott Tracks
  • PODCAST
    • Podcast: Wisdom and Well Being
    • Podcast: Guest Appearances
  • Health E-Book
  • Meditations
  • Poetry
  • Clinician Training
  • Our Newsletters
    • OUR WEEK IN REVIEW
    • A Week Of Compassion
  • About Us
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A Poet's

PlayGround

Air

4/27/2018

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Picture
We grasp
With helpless hands
Not realizing it can
Only be held by lungs

Fighting
You fear its release
Thinking you know
What happens at the end

The cessation they say
When breath becomes bare
The moment you no longer
Know moments

And discover
You just spent your life
Making love to what
You couldn't believe was
​Air
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The Moment Before Moments

4/20/2018

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Picture
In the moment before
moments
Could She have known?
What the world would
Become
When She made our home?

When She breathed us from
Dirt
To walk on two feet
Could She have known
When we would meet

The green we'd forget
Could breathe the same air
Invisible lungs
Still needing a pair

To be in this world
With the prana She'd sent
For all to come to
Before we all went

To the moment before
Moments
When all She could know
Was the power of love
To make it all so
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Patience

4/10/2018

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Picture
She finds me when I have no choice
and leaves me when I choose
She yearns for me to hold her hand
so she can be my muse

​So try I do to ask her out
to share a cup of tea
forgetting she is not the one
to sit where I can see

Unsure of her real motives now
but undeterred by her first no
I learn to breath the pause from air
and how to take it slow

So, a walk I think to hear the birds
will surely bring her near
But yet again, she turns me down
and throws me back to fear

And there I sit in overwhelm,
no space to think or see
So cry I do, to ease the pain
and ask “What’s wrong with me?”

Yet from the voice that I now hear
are not the words of pain
But the hymns of her, come now to bless
the one no longer sane

For of this mind, I have no need
no way to come unto
For what really are the point of thoughts
if I have no peace with you
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Pain

4/5/2018

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Picture
From the cracks of the armor
it bleeds
There is no stopping the drip
when all you see are the drops


They tell me it is crimson
The color of one’s courage
But all I can see
within the storm
is the blur of cloudy tears


They tell me I’ll grow stronger
if I learn to like its taste
But all I can feel
is the hurt inside
when it’s left to grow


They tell me it’s inevitable
like death and growing older
But how can they
be siblings
if I can name just one?


I’ve spent my life
learning its real causes
and the remedies
for its relief


But the way to it
and the way from it
cannot walk hand-in-hand
For holding to it
or running from it
will just lead you to the land


Where there are no ways
for you to walk
no place from which to flee
For there is no from
nor to or through
when it comes to it you see


It’s just the way
Like all the paths
that seek to set you free
Like the love we walked
to bring us here
to the end of you and me
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    Poetry

    Because all that science just gets old after a while.

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