Into the Morphic | Reality Ritual

Into the Morphic

Morphic Resonance: the idea that, through a telepathic
effect or sympathetic vibration, an event or act can
lead to similar events or acts in the future or an idea
conceived in one mind can then arise in another.
—Collins English Dictionary

I wish my worn mind would wax morphic
so to slip unnoticed into the tableau
of chimpanzees asleep in the trees

Or enter a houseful of dogs and
know at which corner of the carpet
I am welcome to lie

I want to fiddle like a cricket
surrounded with so much flora
I learn each plant’s ultimate mission

Or go into bear mind to get wind of
the original quirk that led to
the very first hibernation

I want to sit in the center of a grove of trees
and breathe together in prolonged yoga
while the stories in their rings enter my vertebrae

Or swim for days along the seashore
and be force fed by rays and pelicans
until my own salty blood trades places with seawater

I want to climb a hard mountain
to touch the soft sky
all to confirm: When I don’t think—I am

Reality Ritual

The child and the poet know that Reality
is what does not need to be realistic.
– Lewis Thompson

Put three small scraps of paper each with an important symbol
in your pouch. These should proxy a religion, a mythology, a metaphysic text.

Leave your books. Pack a lunch. Go heavy on instinct.
Guide your caravan of one into a wild expanse.

Make camp. Collect a basket of dead twigs and dried grasses.
These can stand in for your pet dogmas.

Gather a few downed limbs.
Name each of them after one of your so-called problems.

Look for eight rocks which you can barely lift. Pretend
these are all of your obstacles. Whisper politely as they surrender.

Make a ring with them to contain the fire you light
with matches given you by a fool.

Make certain the fool is fully certified. Be generous. Ask that
he or she will become brilliant the instant you strike the match.

Throw all your realistic conclusions into the flames. Trust Supreme Reality
to emerge once you are one hundred ten percent bereft.

Throw in your three paper scraps. Let their sudden flash of light make you
weightless for a long instant. Pretend their heat engraves you with peace.

Lie on your back. Allow the sky to acquire you. You are becoming
a life-size figurine. Pull your knees toward your belly. Defy being a fetus.

Roll onto one side and look out. Lock onto what you long for.
Keep your eyes open. Invite the horizon to be your soulmate.

Stretch all the way out. Turn onto your stomach. Love all matter deeply.
Relish the exchange of breaths. Accept the mutual conduction.

About Climbing Sun

From Boca Raton, Florida, Climbing Sun is a world- and inner-traveler, body-surfer, poet, teacher, engineer, and building designer. He has taught poetry in California schools and is the author of two chapbooks and a novel. He is currently published in several journals and his writings are an attempt to integrate the earthly, human, and spirit realms. He holds a Bachelor of Civil Engineering from the University of Florida and maintains a writing blog. See www.climbingsun.com


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