Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Faintly In Yet Wholly Beyond

Midnight rations glory. Would light matter half so much as otherwise? Who composes only in silence has yet to learn the song that is faintly in yet wholly beyond the world.

Perhaps, but I would rather from my silken tower go singing naked all the way to the dusky beach and rippling water. Milkweed rises at the field's edge and I dream of Monarchs thusly. When we do not go to the woods, the woods are still there.

The future is murder but the only way we know this is because the past was murder too. Give attention to verb tenses! And study Socrates carefully in order to be most benevolent when you discover the crumbs beneath God's table.

Cold poems left in sunlight turn to water and shed a prismatic encompassing grace. It's not a house, it's a home, and it's not a home if you're not in it grinding coffee when the sun floats up from the mountainous distance. Oh for the love of lilies and dogs!

The heart is a drum used by the brain to make up the lyrics that make God laugh. Rabbits under the bird feeder mean foxes in the part of my brain that likes to think life can actually end. You aren't here but you aren't there either!

While bird song at the window unexpectedly distracts from me from teaching and the students laugh. Interpretation is what we have to deal with! Light passes through maple leaves to find me dreaming of secret kisses, each a small tremor in the rush of God's attention.

For a little while longer this will necessarily include bodies, and trails to the river, and brittle envelopes into which handfuls of dried flowers might one day be pressed. I mean the vellum I am longs only for the sea.

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