Monday, February 15, 2010

a father's dream

I have lived with nothing

But sixpence and decay,

Shouldering unspent boulders

Up incandescent hillsides,

Only to pause for breath,

Ignite delay,

Become rooted

to the place

of uncertainty

and hesitation,

Where once again

I hear

but do not see

The stone’s

Retreat

The momentous propulsion

Backward

toward

the ever-present

Call of

Descent and return.

2 comments:

  1. Wow... simply wondeful. Congrats on putting yourself out there for the world to appreciate!

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  2. oooo...thanks for commenting Dex. I just figured out how to see/read comments. And how to do this in general...it feels like there are all these multicolored helium balloons inside of me and they're lilting and bumping and floating and I'm trying to see them and know them and maybe even to hold onto their strings without pulling them all the way to the ground but also not being taken away by their unbounded energy...

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