Going Through Life

Closing In

The shadows of things
start closing in when day falls
growing like weed reaching out
longer and longer
about to touch the horizon,
and burst from their own length;

but no: they dissolve themselves sideways; into the black of night; bursting of breadth instead.

The shadows of people aging
also grow longer and longer;
losing contrast with the ground
until it seems to absorb them;

but just then: they intersect the horizon; surround the globe; complete the circle; live in tomorrow.

Faith

(by Czesław Miłosz)
(dedicated to 'my friend in the East')

Faith is in you whenever you look
At a dewdrop or a floating leaf
And know that they are because they have to be.
Even if you close your eyes and dream up things
The world will remain as it has always been
And the leaf will be carried by the waters of the river.

You have faith also when you hurt your foot
Against a sharp rock and you know
That rocks are here to hurt our feet.
See the long shadow that is cast by the tree?
We and the flowers throw shadows on the earth.
What has no shadow has no strength to live.

Hope

(by Czesław Miłosz)
(dedicated to 'my friend in the West')

Hope is with you when you believe
The earth is not a dream but living flesh,
That sight, touch, and hearing do not lie,
That all things you have ever seen here
Are like a garden looked at from a gate.

You cannot enter. But you're sure it's there.
Could we but look more clearly and wisely
We might discover somewhere in the garden
A strange new flower and an unnamed star.

Some people say we should not trust our eyes,
That there is nothing, just a seeming,
These are the ones who have no hope.
They think that the moment we turn away,
The world, behind our backs, ceases to exist,
As if snatched up by the hands of thieves.

Reverent hesitating gestures

Reverent hesitating gestures
of delicate fragility play on our mutual fingertips.
Reciprocal gravity drives unending inward spiral
Into unlikely intersection of whole persons.

Attrition is the time and place of our union,
The present instance of our love.
Touching is symmetrical, shared
A single act of touching – two in one touch.

Looking in each other’s eyes
                                       Is touching
As the surface of your thought becomes
The surface of my thought

Kissing is a special form of touching
Where we renounce speaking –
Bodies become Words
And speak themselves

As the surface of your silence becomes
The surface of my silence

---

Untouching is done carefully,
With solemn pause.

we incorrectly feel small and     lost

The bustle in a house

(by Emily Dickinson)

The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth, –

The sweeping up the heart,
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.

Today your body sparkles

Today your body sparkles
With a thousand languages
Some archaic and mysterious
Some disturbing and new

Here your body irradiates
With a thousand atoms
All pregnant with bearing
The wholeness of you

Always your body listens
With a thousand gestures
Some giving, some taking
Bonding in two

Together your body blossoms
With a thousand gifts
And an ocean of glory
Seems to shine through

Prima Nocte

I discover senses can be just as inebriating
when they come alive
As when they close down.

How can you be so full of meaning while asleep?
How can I have such a strong conscience of you
when you have none of me?

I discover your nights are so beautiful.
How many nights you must have spent like this,
beautifully, unwatched.

How well you fit inside yourself just now,
While I am overwhelmed by the responsibility
Of tending the full weight of ‘us’ for the moment.

But let me just wait for your next
delayed, shallow, beautiful breath.
Syncopated, innocent, all-filling absence.

Patient synonym of life.

(   delicate balance of promise fulfilled

And from now on perpetually in-the-making