Here’s an echo of my past. In the cavernous halls of the blogosphere, it takes time for an echo to come back again…I posted this April 24. How time flies.
An inch of an odyssey takes infinite time
Forever toward it
Forever undone, forever undone, ever undone, undone.
Assuming an end is presuming a beginning.
Look where you’ve been. Look! Can you see?
Now you are wondering “Where on earth am I going?â€
Preparing for death frees the wind
to sigh, breathing a soft, new breeze
blowing a tender new bud, unique seedlingOur days and our nights
Swallow each other whole-
Lune lusts for shadow chased Helios.
There is no up, there is no down,
Nor back to the belly, nor the crown.
Only forward we lean to fall, grind, roll,
Heave atop the vanishing moment
Hop the lilting merrygoround.Maps crumble into soot
pinched thin by greasy fingers
peddling false, painted mirrors.
Furrowed, worn paths fell us safely
To known, well trodden soil, dense, smooth, glossed
Away from the path to the effervescent fields
The path through the marshes, ripe, rank and raw
Away from the path beyond to gardenia festooned hills
There is no end, no beginning
Day and night flashes-
Tingling fragrant sparks
In our hearts.
Technorati tags- poem, being present, literature, philosophy, time, spirit, awareness, philosophical poetry, abstract poetry
Garnet,
This is beautiful. I like how you write with about a “moment,” yet it is wrapped in a history. History of a Universe, a History of You, or of Me. Perhaps, all of us and Thou combined. I don’t know. It’s complex, as it should be, and takes time to sink in, much like any history does. I might print this one and put above my desk, with your permission of course! Take care.
Heave atop the vanishing moment
Hop the lilting merrygoround
I love those lines. I’m going to have to read this one a few times, I think, to let it all sink in.
THG- Of course you may print it out. I’d be flattered! Yes, it’s about many things at once. But mostly an exploration of the elusive efulgent present and the many traps surrounding it.
moose- I get into these florid ruminations of the constantly shifting wave of the present moment. I’m into buddhism and have read lots about zen and the traps of the mind in being completely present. Ironically, this poem shifts around that with words, since your present is nothing like mine, or even like mine yesterday.
I like the first paragraph best, it produces for me an imagery- which I do not often need help evoking, of seeing the world as if I was a tree, and in short i love that.
The words you use in this are your mark, i enjoy the consistancy
Thank you Regina- I tried to capture swirls. All the verses have cycles and opposites in mind, winter/spring, up/down, sun/moon, life/death, day/night, beginning/end, emotions(gut)/thoughts(crown), worn paths/new paths.