Sunday, November 24, 2013

The Sun or Deer

The abstract becomes terrible, 
especially when unable to taste salts in the ocean
full gone toward a notion and grasping hope having become 
tuneful and fearful at last,
the other as a shared notion is
stacked and multiplied, clipped and untoward as humans can be
toward another whose face, 
like mine,
quests for a opening, bright door.

In meeting and recognition of smiles,
we shore up faith, 
images to be fulfilled and walk on and on and outward
toward the sparkling and unhinged night-
our world is not for the night, but rather the day when 
the exchange is open
and, in meeting and rejection of expressions, 
entropy within an inherently emotive system
enthrones the fastest, remorseless runners.

Up from the earth and outward n tight circles
dogwood, lilacs, and willows wait
dormant and smooth, perpendicular to the mother
and with sweet juices reserved, tuneful and without fear, 
they wait for the sun or the deer
mindful of nothing but a state of faithless eminence
in truth, we are all immobile
and as abstract as they,
though free to pretend toward something else 
that will be destroyed.

1 comment:

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Adam,
I need to take a walk with you in the hills e hoa..
Aroha,
Robb

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