Mandala of a Latter-Day Saint
By Reid Baer
I left in sufficient time
to make a sacrament meeting
in a strange community
with a scratch piece of paper,
an address, and simple directions.
I’m driving with a head full
of internecine dreams
and a bottle of cool water
in my lap along with scriptures
and Carl Jung’s words
accompanying me in the passenger seat
working me relentlessly
stirring ideas and images
about archetypes and undercurrents
and the solemnities of the eternities
moving toward their own destinations
with a will sometimes beyond myself
yet within myself – but through it all
I went much too far one way
and ended up in Winston-Salem
then back East again to Greensboro
and North along Freeman Mill Road.
I was sure this was the right place
if the signs serve me correctly -
right down the road -
it’s just not here!
I must admit I’m lost and late,
bemused, befuddled, alone,
trying … reminding myself to breathe
and breathe again … breathe!
So, I’m heading South now
doing my deep personal work
sitting in distress sweating
down my neck and back
ready for a colossal panic attack
if I want one today
or maybe I’ll pass -
let a little peace run through me -
and choose to roam through the Carolinas
without a definitive agenda
perfectly okay with spending gas
and time … there’s plenty of time …
patiently creating my time …
to ride around in circles
making a mandala
inexorably making a mandala
before returning to God -
my welcome home.
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