I do not write and I write both
With you in my veins like no other
Wherever you are now or now
Morning comes, moisture in the air
At least this morning and here
Yet morning comes to each and within
The currents, the streams begin without beginning
Your silences touch me, as if receded
The loudness of what we do not share
Deafens, yet excites the molecules of space
What great tree do we commons in our reference?
Beyond myself, I send out a message
Not only in this, but as a hologenetic code
And something stirs, is it the simultaneity
Of the return, mutual referencing of the unseen
It's not the usual I know
Not even like nested bowls
The numinosity that runs through us
A superabundance akin to light
Yet of its own perceive-ability and not
As victor, master or even to preside
So subtle and eminently pervasive
That above and below, here and beyond are neutralized
The minerals in the soil are none other than the tree
It is our names for things that give the illusion
Of separateness: yours, mine, rock, tree
Am I the concentration of myself without you
Nay
Yea
Simultaneity
One without the other and form drops away
This great tree is seen in the branching of all things
Structures of any kind: words, bones, existence
Even structure of spirit, sometimes named the Unseen
These arms reach further than the fingers here on pen
mmm...."fingers here on pen"....."the silences that speak louder than words"....I
ReplyDeleteI feel heartened by your words,Janice.
Makes me think of how this online play has it's own particular odd beauty and potential for a unique flavor of alienation as we punch our keys like lab rats looking for morsels of social and intellectual sustenance? community? reward?..All good intentions ,of course....Such strange creatures we are!...or maybe I should just speak for myself :)
In any case,,,I've been reading more printed material lately...backing off a little from the digital form....Feels great to touch paper and turn pages!
love,
Rachel