Tribute to a Great Lady
My dear friend, Alix Taylor Robertson passed out of this world two years ago. We had been very close, and her passing was a great loss.I think of her often, and miss her wonderful ways and mystical wisdom.
Alix has left a legacy of work behind that would make anyone proud. Yet, I’m sure she felt to the end that she hadn’t done all she could do. She thought of herself as a "difficult case", and we laughed often about our mutual rebellious attitudes to what we felt we were “supposed” to do.
Alix wrote several books, including her beautiful autobiography, A Door Ajar, and in her last few years turned to poetry. As the date of her birthday approaches, I’d like to share some of them with you here as a way of honoring the lady I hold very dear to my heart.
Rumi The Light I Heard A Voice
“There’s a field,” Rumi said.
“I’ll meet you there.”
I waited and waited.
I watched the corn blowing
in the next field making its dry
Rustling sound,
And watched the geese
Walking away from the distant pond.
I even thought I saw a leafturn yellow on the little oak tree. Rumi never came.
And no poetry sprouted from the ground
Or blew in with the breeze.
Where are you going? He asked.
Into the light, I said.
Where is the light? He asked.
It’s around you, around me, ahead of us.
I don’t see it, he said.
Keep walking, I said.
Can you see the light? He asked.
Yes, I said. I can see its edge
And I’m heading for its center.
How will I ever see the light? He asked.
Close your eyes, I said.
I heard a voice.
It said “Bee”?
It said, “Be.” You know
Bees can do things I cannot do.
They take something from inside themselves
And something from outside—
The pollen from the flower —
And make something totally new,
Totally different, something
That was not there before.
I cannot do this. But the voice said, “Be”.
And I threw the doors of my heart open
And light flowed in,
And something I did not know was inside
Flowed out like honey.
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