Research

comments 34
Poetry

They said once,
in the papers,
they found sea shells
in the Rocky Mountains.

To minds so disposed,
these findings–
like all such mockeries
of the mundane–
sparked a series
of concomitant revelations.
I know this
because Hafiz
pinned me to the wall,
told me to hold quite still,
and then cordoned my life–
which suddenly felt
like a pop-up trailer
with ten thousand doors–
into endless sectors
of moonlit bedrock
and crushed eons.
We wear head lamps now,
and we work deep into the night,
using toothbrushes
to scrape away the dust.

We keep in our mind
that once there was an Ocean
resting
six or seven miles deep
in that very spot.

What we’re finding,
are little heart pieces,
captured notes of music,
crumpled notes to self,
the ashes of ancient fires,
and other remnants
of Love’s passage.

And we’re finding them
everywhere.

34 Comments

    • Thank you, Dennis! Do you find when you write sometimes that you have a feeling of how many syllables you need? Sometimes you need just one. Sometimes two, or three. That is what I think of when you speak of music. The rhythm. I really appreciate your sharing this observation.

      Michael

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      • Hi Michael. For a good part of my life I did many things in music: teaching, directing choirs, singing in a band, a lot of song writing. I spent a good part of today working on music with a friend. I am extremely conscious of the rhythm in writing and that was what influenced my comment to you. I am super aware of the power of rhythm to move people and get their attention. I think that’s because there is so much rhythm all around us and in us in creative reality. Mostly what I do in my blog is poetry only in a loose sense, but I write in verse form because of this awareness of rhythm to provide something special to the written form. I will often go back to blog posts that I have written a couple days or more ago and if I change them, more often than not it is because of the rhythmic feel and most of the time that will entail a lopping off of words or syllables. Glad your reply gave me a chance to share this. Peace, Michael. ~Dennis

        Liked by 2 people

        • Hi Dennis,

          So great to learn a little more about you. I like what you say about rhythm, and find it to be true. I think I’ve tried to pay attention to this quality in my writing throughout my life, albeit only subconsciously. I also appreciate what you say here about loosely written prose, for my poetry is similar to yours in that respect. I once answered a question from Hariod on this in a manner similar to what you have described here: that adding lines to what might otherwise be a fairly normal grammatical construction can add emphasis, beats, etc… I feel better to have company on this point… 🙂

          Peace,
          Michael

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  1. 6 million years ago, I was deep under water in this very spot. Were you, too? You make me feel disoriented in such a good way, once again! 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • Undoubtedly, yes! I was the diatom that was pulled into the sponge, then spit back out and left to wander aimless along the sea floor. Many, many millennia later, through the recently minted photoelectric effect, a droplet of sunlight vaporized me, and turned me into sky. Hafiz breathed me in, and now it’s like a class reunion!

      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

        • Yes, we diatoms have come quite a distance. I am enjoying life without my frustules. To me, those images in the link you provided make early life a clear attempt by stars to inhabit the earth…

          Have a great weekend freebasing those salty memories…!

          Michael

          Liked by 1 person

  2. The archaeology of the soul, or as in my own hopeless case, no-soul, expressed with your usual eidetic imagery and pulchritude Michael.

    P.S. I shall be away for the next three weeks or so, touring England visiting friends and very much remaining off-line throughout – see you upon my return dear friend!

    Liked by 2 people

    • No-soul is good, too, Hariod. I’m warming up to this notion. Just about everything I know of myself is temporary, and what I know that isn’t temporary, doesn’t appear to have any boundaries or conditions. It’s just all of it. And none of it. It’s my soul. 🙂

      I hope you have a wonderful trip. I will miss you, and your fine vocabulary lessons and look forward to your return.

      Michael

      Liked by 2 people

  3. What a great metaphor, Michael. Unraveling the self is like archeological digging. I have always thought of it as peeling off layers of an onion. Or as decluttering a room. That’s a new great metaphor. Happy digging. With toothbrushes, LOL!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Karin! I like the idea of discovering things as we dig down. Unexpected treasures. Rubies in the cliffside… 🙂

      Peace
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

  4. “What we’re finding,
    are little heart pieces,
    captured notes of music,
    crumpled notes to self,
    the ashes of ancient fires,
    and other remnants
    of Love’s passage.”
    It is the inner and outer terrain so expressed. The Earth’s evolution over aeons without, our own evolution over aeons within. As of late, I often wonder if I will have a feeling of recognition of my late sister, should I ever meet her in some fresh, earthly, mundane life. Will I have a sense of remembrance? Yes. I will have crumpled notes and captured notes and ashes. Love has passed through me so many times, remembered, felt, known and otherwise. To mold, to break, to entice, to nourish, or visit, or just passing through. This poem captures that essence, the mystery and magic of love and Love.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Andrea, I have to be careful how I answer your rhetorical question given a recent exchange with Ellen on this very topic a few posts back. I tend to think that Life is beautiful enough to answer these types of questions in all possible affirmative ways at once, meaning I think you will know your sister’s presence should she appear in some fresh, earthly, mundane life; and when she takes on the robe of another for a fleeting instant, not as a permanent resident, but just to borrow a nearby body and give a quick wink, to say hi, I love you, I am here; or when she passes through on a cloud, a breeze, or the quiver of a flower in the sun. Once we’re everywhere, we’re everywhere… 🙂

      Happy excavating…
      Michael

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  5. And more of us are now focusing on the fact that these treasures are “everywhere” than the particular make-up of each find. We are simply finding “little heart pieces” everywhere. How wonderful! Happy Easter, Michael ♥

    Liked by 1 person

    • Happy Easter to you, too, Alia! It does add to the fun to explore these archaeological sites with the company of friends, comparing discoveries…! 🙂

      Michael

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  6. Wonderful poem.. And yes let us be ever so mindful that once the ocean was deep in such a spot..
    Even high now above sea level in the Peak District of the Derbyshire Dales in England.. I found a fossil of a fish in the rocks.. Change is constant..

    Liked by 1 person

    • Wow! It is amazing to think about how the Earth accomplishes these changes, isn’t it? The Sahara was once a rain forest. The mountains were once the sea. I’m convinced there is precious little I could ever say that I know. If we wait long enough– (don’t ask me how to do that, exactly… 🙂 )– it will all have passed away and become something else entirely.

      Blessings
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

      • Yes and yet we humans think we can control nature.. And it has not right to flood where we build.. It is we who are the invaders and we can not alter the natural course of how our Earth evolves… I have no doubts it will shift yet again.. as we loose coast lines as the sea levels rise again.. I am 90 miles inland from the sea.. Yet even here if it rose by 15 feet.. we would be flooded.. 🙂 or so the experts tell me.. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

        • Sue, these are interesting topics to be sure. I personally hesitate to think of our extended family as invaders. We have lost the plot at times, and wreaked some mighty fine havoc to be sure, but I think we’ve also produced some astounding expressions of Love. And I think we all went through our various hell-raiser phases growing up. And here we are, on WordPress, talking up beauty and peace. So I think collectively we will get there… to the place where we’re moving with and in and through and as nature. Just as soon as we stop pretending any other way is possible.

          We just have to keep digging… 🙂

          With our toothbrushes…

          Peace
          Michael

          Liked by 1 person

  7. Beautiful Soulful Michael , YOU , ….Love is everywhere , always … ” a pop-up trailer with ten thousand doors ” …. I love your poem ….love xxxmeg

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Meg. I think pop-up trailers are right out of Harry Potter or something. They’re like cosmic gateways dressed up as gaps in a stockade fence. And you can tow them around the countryside to boot! In gratitude, Michael

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