704
eternal return
sometimes I'll just look at the day
possibilities already lost
ask how many creatures share this
with me
unknown to even themselves
the seen-so day's
all bright beginning
how many wildernesses to my patch?
stretch into light's flow to show
some days brittle
ache to crack
so much like religion
all invisible to themselves
practise not to squander
and we not knowing why
and I just anywhere
anyone
breeze borne
that's the open window
I
have to go back
among the words lost
a trail of me
and what a wood!
there isn't a way I've come
but
where the plot was gone
anything just happens
still follow along for the sunshine
come to the home of cicadas
come to where the frog tells 'o'
paint the heart mind blank
there's no writing for those
won't see the wonders
they're not reading either
much more naked
come to the door
there is no arriving here
go back to the dream before
one home it's such an odd thing.
ReplyDeletethe past is the present future
ReplyDeletea turning door
is the creak a cicada?
ReplyDeleteSo I was rabbiting on
to a mate today about
how cultural difference
doesn't impede
the universal archetypes
when he looked at me
and said Rob what did you expect