The wide way home
Weaves uncertainly;
The house
At the bend of the cobbled lane
Seems to have turned its back.
All the same
A gate stands open.
In the unscrubbed mirror: Talsi lane
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Tag Archives: beginnings
In the unscrubbed mirror: Riga boating
Life’s a boat,
No ticket required,
No PFD issued,
Just you, naked, barefoot,
All agog,
Wearing only
The Captain’s braid.
One sudden morning
One sudden morning, as the sun sprang gayly
Slung across the day
And the breeze teased the slithery waters
And crowned the trees with whispers
I slipped the irons of time.
The child grandfathered the world
Through my heart, and I saw the true meaning
Of love beyond mentioning, of life unsheathed.
I saw the fringe of being, the birthplace
Of torment and gain, hand in hand in hand.
Awash in that speck of reality
That illusion casts in the eye,
Was unbending everness, all in gale and garnet,
In anguish above and below
That which eludes the grasp.
A wisp of this and that,
And great epics are written
In groaning slabs of rock, in ecstatic wandering
Through surges of joy and despair
All identically kitted out.
Whether we arrive here or there
Means nothing, after all;
That was the secret that escapes always.
In the beginning was the word
And the word was not.
The birth of time
My last post may have seemed rather a dismal prospect, so I felt the need to perk things up a bit. Hence this prequel.
Suddenly, there was suddenly
Suddenly one thing could follow the last
A great thumping cosmos hummed itself
Into being, bits of light chased and clumped
Into riots of color. Suddenly,
There could be succession, a rhythm.
There could be change and season
And the songs the winter writes for summer.
Then came memory, and all the love and loathing
To fill it til it spilled bursting
Into spinning clinging helical again
What was became was
How could I not be born?
I strode along Boulevards of grace-rimmed
Wonder, green-eyed raspberry wet
Racing, lapping my feet, my soul
The color of sweet melting kisses.
A swirl of endless life/death enticed about me
How kind to have this path so under me!
How clear to have such rhyming intense otherness
Calling all about!
I have these charts, these vectors,
This swollen ark to take me sailing.
Here comes a grandfather wind
All a-swoon!
Genealogy II
Somehow, a mitochondrion wormed its way
Into our native beast, and, having found shelter,
Settled in.
We have twisted it to our liking,
Harvesting its life energy,
Binding it to ourselves
Like an indentured child
Harvesting the boundless sunlight
For a wizened mole.
Those walls have long since dissolved,
But part of us still seeks
The primitive new,
The strange echo of mutation,
The protean coil,
That entwines alien virtues.
But for every meld there is a sever,
How can I embrace you
If we have become one?
And for every sever there is a mending.
And so we spin and part our helix
Until end becomes beginning.
exiles child 