You…
Is that you?
Inside of me?
I can feel you
passing from one world to the next,
the way the sun passes between the days,
with shadows fleeing from the brilliance.
I go about my day. You go about yours.
We are entangled without intersection.
What do you call this superposition?
I looked but you were gone.
I saw moonlight beaming on a field of curled grass
and a wooden hatch-
another one of your invitations-
an outcropping in a buttery-colored quiet
whose suggestive features annulled my future.
This image-
it was the best my mind could fashion
of the emptiness into which you plunge.
I want to be destitute, like you,
weightless, so hollow I can
float through history, so weak
I can hold but one moment-
the One with all of us in it.
You live in between us,
in worlds with no shape or depth
that have no end. No beginning.
I am a cave in which you dream,
the wall on which you paint.
I am your aftertaste.
I can feel you inside, perpetually vanishing.
But you must have been here to depart.
I discovered
my heart is an answering machine,
a magnetized recording of your Presence.
I’ve saved all your messages.
I press Play, and listen to hour after hour of silence-
weeping. You never hang up.
Lifetimes pass as I listen,
poised on the brink of your Meaning.
What do you call this superposition?
You press against me like the wind against a sail.
Where are we going?
Please… carry me across this sea.
Is that you?
Embracing Forever 
“I am your aftertaste…”
BRAVO, BRAVO, BRAVO!
(there is a heart felt standing ovation happening on this side of the screen at the beauty streaming from this share).
M here, having just come from across the sea (literally 🙂 touching the ground for a moment before the clocks kept time, chasing down the wind blowing the soul home.
And that taste on her tongue? Words infused with the lingering flavor of wild honey.
Divine. Simply, deliciously divine. -x.M
::
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Thanks, M! Glad you had a good trip, and the turbine engines produced a steady manmade wind at your back. It never ceases to amaze- what human ingenuity can do with fire… Discovery of the fire of the heart will surely bring a revolution of equal import…
Wild Honey is one of my favorite U2 tracks, by the way.
Michael
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Would you that spangle of Existence spend
About the Secret–Quick about it, Friend!
A Hair perhaps divides the False and True–
And upon what, prithee, may life depend?
A Hair perhaps divides the False and True;
Yes; and a single Alif were the clue–
Could you but find it–to the Treasure-house,
And peradventure to The Master too;
Whose secret Presence, through Creation’s veins
Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains;
Taking all shapes from Mah to Mahi; and
They change and perish all–but He remains;
A moment guess’d–then back behind the Fold
Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll’d
Which, for the Pastime of Eternity,
He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold.
http://classics.mit.edu/Khayyam/rubaiyat.html
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I thought MIT was an engineering school!? Ha!
You gave me all the excuse I needed to look up the Persian polymath Omar Khayyam. I love that word… polymath. I think we are all polymaths at heart. And my little detour into the information portal called the World Wide Web reminded me that I am continually intrigued by the richness and depth of Persian history when juxtaposed with what I imagine to be the modern American perspective of this part of the world.
Truly, the same One moves through all of us.
Thanks for the link and your presence here.
Michael
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So glad you enjoyed these verses, Michael. “The Rubaiyat” was THE subversive text of my teenage years and certainly among the 5 or 6 most influential books in my life. For anyone who has the time and inclination, this BBC documentary is quite good:
Keep up the good work!
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I enjoyed the perfect flowing words of your poetry and enjoyed the comments equally too ! Awesome work ! I am in Love with it.
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Thank you very much for visiting and sharing. This Love… it is why we are. I am enjoying equally reminding and being reminded. Michael
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