Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Full Moon (A poem)

It’s a fine madness…
That scribbles the scriptures of ibis-headed Tehuti
Here in this small book
Whilst leopard frogs croon and mate
By the little waterfall’s address
And a single cricket creaks;
That perfect white disk
Itself takes
A look
Over my angelic shoulder —
There’s that other, whose Secret Name
You don’t even want to know
For as seeking separates you from what you seek
All resistance: your house of cards collapses
As other crickets answer
From where…

This moonlit garden is merely changing Paradise
As the Moon itself changes,
Only it never dies
For the Garden of Life,
This eternal treasure of Prester John
Never thinks twice
Only continues to breathe…

You are the wise totality of animal lust
And we foolish humans must
Be forgiven
For our failure to remember
We ARE stardust!

No comments:

Post a Comment