on the surface
(the skin of this place)
it falls
in waves and packets
and forms
into lines and shadows
dividing the whole
into parts
and giving shape
to the shapeless
deeper yet
it emerges
from me
in hope
and wishes for a place
in those who define the terms of their presence here
as hopeless
a way of being
that seems reasonable
despite
its strange covenant
with the deliberately obscure
the seemingly unattainable
the unmeasurable
-
being
without form
it can't be directed
it simply is
like the air
like the water
like the earth
a process
10 comments:
Is it a way of seeing, innately, to know that the light is unchangeable, like seeing the glass as half full? I see light like I see the soul, immutable. Yet the spirit, or shadow, can fall and obscure it.
ruth - thanks for your thoughtful comment and question. light as a metaphor represents for me a process in which the possibility of good is made available. the degree to which the person stays out of the way by not imposing the vagaries of human nature (expectations) on its passage through and away from them (the expectation of recompense for allowing the light to pass through being chiefest among those human features that show up at the party and, as you say, fall and obscure it) affects not only its passage but the arrival of the possibility of good in others whom it might pass through in turn. steven
Let there be light! Did you know this is the festival of Diwali in India? Started last night.
Jai Lakshmi!
Oh Steven, how beautifully woven are your words. Incredible!
Justn to say that I loved your comment left for me on 'Forever and ever' about the ride to school. I so identified with it as I have experienced many such days in the past. I smiled a lot and thought of you .... and the fantastic work you do in teaching.
I have heard of writers who write with music playing in the background... Geniuses of course :)
Now here's a question... I manage 'the process of seeing' in the light, but how does one manage in the dark?
Winter is fast approaching and with it the bitter poignancy of long hours of a cold blanket of dark. How is the poet to endure without the light?
there are times reya when i wish i could do the "holiday/festival" tour of the world so i could be a part of these amazing celebrations. i'd love to light rows of oil lamps, clean the house (already do!), and blow off firecrackers to scare off the bad spirits!!! steven
aguja - hey you're welcome both ways! i just do what i do. steven
shaista - i've got a response coming your way in a couple of days. stay tuned! steven
being without form,
i try to accept it
and then i stub my toe on form
again and again,
all the while sensing being passing through all.
xo
erin
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