Where Other Earthlings Await Us

I cannot stay in the tributaries,
I trace on back
from the many streams and channels
to my headwaters,
the font, the first.
I have to seek the source
from which my vitality springs.

I’m compelled to find
the place that can restore me.
I have been a human lost,
heart-lost, brain-imbalanced,
missing my humanity.
Dementia is a dream
from which I am awakening.

Isn’t it clear we humans all
are truly out of our minds?
Dementia is a dream
from which we now must wake.
For every path that tangles,
one fresher
now springs forth.

Putting down devices,
interrupting patterns
closing eyes to comforts,
we find out how to sit
in the moment of holy not-knowing,
in the open field of innocence
where everything stills;

Where everything shimmers
and the past comes sailing by.
Elders who forget become rewarded
with visions wild of what might be.
Children are born who are able to see
spatial dimensions curled-up and tiny,
heretofore hidden, but all around us.

We cannot stay in the tributaries
which we ourselves have tangled.
We need to seek the headwaters
from which our vitality springs.
We live in the time of humans regaining
the heartplace of restoration, where
all the other earthlings await us.

©Susa Silvermarie 2026