________
in the early evening, i stood apart to listen; i stood apart to pray; i stood apart to gather my thoughts in. near me stretched three long, thin trees, and in them stretched a long, tall wind.
oh, put me next to windows! put me next to everything clear and busy and full of tall, thin time. for time is everything! see those who climb the long stairs quickly, they pause for breath: that is time. this, too, is time: an hour, a month, a year of pauses, one year of looking to the door with hope. time is Age, who sits above me speaking slow and full of words. he speaks of you, and he knew you, Poetry! he speaks with love of you. but time is everything, he said: you must understand how time is everything. i dare say History has said the same.
and i've heard preachers, oh atheists and tragedicians mostly now, who never saw you breathe: yet that's okay, really guiltless! they've only gambled so many sides to lose, you see. it's Age who taught me to know them so, dear Poetry; who taught me theology, taught me love! who pulled back long velvet curtains to reveal the broken innocence of helpless ignorance--and there behind, Age showed me love for us! such love for us, oh love for us! how we are loved!--and he says it too is time, everything is time, love, love too is time. and ignorance is time. childhood is time. you & i, and he, great color and all gray Asides: we too are time. long, thin trees and wind within: ah, but time.
gathered, gathered! harvested in, here my thoughts, broken, full of ignorance, empty of time. oh thoughts are never finished; for thoughts, too--made all of time, such long, long time.
November '09
in the early evening, i stood apart to listen; i stood apart to pray; i stood apart to gather my thoughts in. near me stretched three long, thin trees, and in them stretched a long, tall wind.
oh, put me next to windows! put me next to everything clear and busy and full of tall, thin time. for time is everything! see those who climb the long stairs quickly, they pause for breath: that is time. this, too, is time: an hour, a month, a year of pauses, one year of looking to the door with hope. time is Age, who sits above me speaking slow and full of words. he speaks of you, and he knew you, Poetry! he speaks with love of you. but time is everything, he said: you must understand how time is everything. i dare say History has said the same.
and i've heard preachers, oh atheists and tragedicians mostly now, who never saw you breathe: yet that's okay, really guiltless! they've only gambled so many sides to lose, you see. it's Age who taught me to know them so, dear Poetry; who taught me theology, taught me love! who pulled back long velvet curtains to reveal the broken innocence of helpless ignorance--and there behind, Age showed me love for us! such love for us, oh love for us! how we are loved!--and he says it too is time, everything is time, love, love too is time. and ignorance is time. childhood is time. you & i, and he, great color and all gray Asides: we too are time. long, thin trees and wind within: ah, but time.
gathered, gathered! harvested in, here my thoughts, broken, full of ignorance, empty of time. oh thoughts are never finished; for thoughts, too--made all of time, such long, long time.
November '09
