Here in the Meanwhile,
on the shores of Forever
dotted with the charcoal stumps of forgotten fires,
the mossy walls of collapsing wooden shanties
and various debris of antiquity, such as:
half-buried edges of glass, torn diary pages, ice picks,
the bones of dead birds bleached by the sun,
and a curious face caught in sepia,
the faint notes of song drift past on the breeze,
pastel tones that have nowhere else to go
and so wander idly amongst
other ethereal vagabonds
and the shed skins of past illusions.
Here
where holiness is
an encrypted premonition
carried by the air itself,
buried beneath the suggestive chatter
and dramatic stand-taking
of the day’s black and white re-runs–
a patient conspiracy
that stands watch behind
the white noise of ganged memories
and the acrid taste of wrongdoings
that never mattered,
not in the way this matters…
Here. Now.
our greatest work
is not invention,
or strength-making,
but the practiced
discipline
of keeping the ache
at the center of our being
Pure
Endless
Empty
as the type of sunlight
that travels in a curve
over the horizon.
Like a flock of birds
united by a vision of spilt seeds
that coalesce upon
the branches of a single tree,
black dew drops congealing from above
squawking and gawking and
all lusting in the same direction–
when your aching
narrows down and
begins to inhabit
a dream of this world like that–
walk over towards it
like a farmer protecting his fields,
feeling the dormant abundance
that you would protect
alive beneath your feet,
clapping your hands and shushing loudly
until the Desire
at the center of your chest
scatters and takes flight once again,
filling every corner of the sky
with your own particular
Conspiracy of Love,
leaving you
Pure
Endless
Empty
as a human being
whose Vision
travels in a curve
over the horizon.
Embracing Forever 
This one took me to a far-away place, the sense of the aftermath of a catastrophe; the end-of-the-world situation contained in each moment… ‘where holiness is an encrypted premonition carried by the air itself.’ There’s the ache, ‘the dormant abundance’, and I like the image of the ‘shushing’ farmer urging everything onwards, staying free and the lightness of it all.
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In a sense it IS the aftermath of the catastrophe of misperception, and I like your point about the apocalypse of falsehood being a potential within every moment. This is why the righting of our “seeing” can take place instantly, isn’t it? Part of this piece was about not getting attached to specific ways of doing this… and staying free as you say… letting it arrive on its own terms…
Michael
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Yes, there’s always that opportunity, always available – part of what the software does. Buddhists call it the Third Noble Truth. If the conditions are right, it does it by itself. The way you describe it is exactly this. I recognised it immediately.
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Oh Michael, you have such a lovely evocative way with words. I was most captivated by your lines “Here. Now.
our greatest work
is not invention,
or strength-making,
but the practiced
discipline
of keeping the ache
at the center of our being”
They so succinctly captured for me my ever-increasing willingness to stay with whatever feeling arise in any moment because I’ve found that healing comes by going through instead of trying to go around or avoid these feelings. Thanks as always for your wise words.
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Thank you, Don. I think you’re exactly right about the fact that we have to go through it, to discover the seeming solidity is a cloud of mist, a confusion, and then a breaking open into sunlight. We can’t have that experience by avoiding it. Thanks as always for reading. Hope the Cyprus rejuvenation project is going well…
Michael
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I think I originally typed a reply that went poof…
It said something about how this line would haunt me:
where holiness is
an encrypted premonition
carried by the air itself
and then talked about really feeling my next breath in: X and out: X
and then rejoining the dojo, the mind moved here:
-x.M
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Maren, there’s no movies in the dojo… Only serious training. Very serious. I do love that scene. The whole movie I should admit. Except the sewer flush scene. Very slimy bit of cinematography, that. 🙂
I think we should talk to ourselves like we’re Morpheus every morning. Self, do you really think that’s air your breathing? Do you think there is anything that could happen today that could never be forgiven…? Do you think your “reasons” for having mixed feelings about the rest of eternity are valid? Then raise our eyebrows and twist our head slightly and wait… See what comes next…
Thanks for your visit, M. Hope the skies are treating you well this leg.
Michael
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Oh I love my teachers, meaning you and you and you, here! – You are cool grad students in jeans with good taste in music and movies instead of dusty, sleepy lecturers asleep behind big desks. A while ago, you two inserted Morpheus’ voice inside my head upon waking – I am afraid when I think there is not air at times, but it passes. xo! to every one.
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