I want companions of passion,

who still ask

how and why and what,

the way the sun

comes up every morning.

We all climbed great mountains

in the past, and looked

out over infinity;

so why sit and remember

the old days, sipping tea

and talking like some

kind of experts on climbing?

Everywhere you look

are new mountains:

making a living,

raising a family, dealing

with pain, illness and loss.

Your flatness of emotion

proclaims some secret knowledge

you think you possess

about the Universe.

I want the passion of

those who Doubt,

who still crack open

trees and stones in their looking.

I want companions

who cry “Why Lord, Why?”

I need the company of brothers

and sisters who fall down dumb

when they see a flower or

a sunrise, who weep over animals

dead on the roadside, who

dance with babies and small children,

who love strangers and friends

for no reason at all.

I want companions who have

nothing figured out,

no answers on the shelves of their

mind, no money in the bank,

nowhere to retire to,

who will greet me as I greet them,

with open arms and laughter

in answer to my questions,

saying from their hearts,

“I have no idea at all—

let’s go find out!”


Posted by kind permission of the poet.


Poetry
Richard Wehrman

Richard Wehrman

About the author

An award-winning illustrator, graphic designer and poet, Richard lives in rural Upstate New York. He is an artist who found his way to poetry through the language and heart teachings of two 13th and 14th-century Persian poets. His works explore the spiritual and psychological aspects of living an embodied life.