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