Thursday, February 23, 2012

rate of change

All at once I am here again, by trip of tongue and sleight of hand. I see the morning star as the night unwinds, and realize either eye could be right, left alone long enough. A spark to find that midnight road, a mark to hew the lay of the land. Always cut with the abrupt partings, always having to trust the handshake deals and the weight of gaze and word. The stranger waiting at those crossed roads, our crossed stars the magic as it fades.

The sky is sized up, with tree limb partitions. The glittering bluff of constellations, the deeper blur of this vast retreat. Spun out along the remote border of this seething galaxy we learn to move with the infinite, so very careful where we step. Abandoned upon this point on the map, we are riven knowing only the speed or the spot. We get lost like this, or something like it. Alone in the skin of some middling feeling, sunk to the bottom  of some diligent atmosphere. Held by heaven against the press of earth.

I light a fire, I draw down smoke. I hesitate in thoughtful suffocation. Chosen paths recognize no accidents, oath bound ways always stuck with their eyes on the road. One moment here, another moment gone. Shadows crawling across each street as day pursues the night. The crow calls down the dusk, the dove finds no respite. Tell me the fable of want and wander, tell me the road from sand to sea. Another season set ablaze, another year folded back into the fields. Peach blossoms alight in the night air, and I cannot tell my heart one thing.

No comments:

Post a Comment