Spirit and flesh together manifest
Bashō might have caught
In his net of three short lines
This torrent of trills
Attadīpā viharatha
The world so vast
tangled, hungry
and I so small
I take this place for mine
for so long we both
And on its eminence
I make my castle
my puddle
my world
Here be dragonlets
They come from the sky
hunt over my pool
return to the sky
I wait
They come from the meadows
mate over my pool
leave many small selves
Sistren and brethren
We come from the water
from hunting the water
take our seat in the sky
Continent
Where do I begin and the world end?
What line shall we draw?
Me, and the water
me, and the leaf
me, and my aura
Nine-tenths below
toes grasping fluid ground
skin chewing mists
tongue spearing life from the sky
I breathe the atoms of this ocean
bathe in the warmth of a far flame
I eat and drink and eat again
until one day eaten
become other eyes skin tongue
and again
and back to earth and air
and one day, an old star dying and a new one born
Where do I begin? Where begins the great wet world?
Ichor and ambrosia
From siege perilous
the aspirant goes forth
bright sword, numinous corps
guided by dream
stomach empty, chest full
Faces the beast, himself
returns victorious (or not)
brings wisdom to his tribe
glory to his line
From warm dark earth
go I forth
black-daggered, alone
the dance of she-fellows my lode
to beauty blind
Face down gale and beak
wend home, panniers dusty-gilt
crop of liquid light
to feed my family
We are all heroes
Ouroboros
You seem so… steady
I change
Grow too large
for myself
But we are granted room
and what I must cast off
I take back within me
to sinew the leap
fletch the bolt
clear the vision
steady the change
Equipoise
See me without fear
I am but a small thing, a metaphor, a legendary caution
yet well-crafted for my rôle:
taste air, drink sun, hunt meadow and pool, abide in earth
Curved, a bow; straight, the arrow
My tail I do not bite
rather, from your garden sweep vermin
(and all else I can catch and swallow)
Let dawn itself devour each night
spring, each winter
beetles, my skin (ere I invite them within)
and I, the circling seasons
until they me
No rest for the reaper
nor yet the sower
Once more around?
Snapping at gnats
Here now we dwell
we of waning tail and longing limb
Up there we one day wend
Up there in the heavy and dry
the inconstant heat
the jaws and paws and claws
and good fat bugs
For now, we graze green tendrils
writhing worms
each other
And strike at the sky
Aye, all the way down
Older am I
than the sky
They say I
bear the world
soft blue moist green rich brown
many-peopled
backs on backs on mine
But that is myth
I am the world
Its place mine
its pace mine
Hard space above
soft earth below
between, all that moves
that lives
that loves
that is I
Gnomon
To outsit the sun
feel the leaf-isle extend its girth
as I mine
sense the new day rising slow at my back
let spiraled hours encircle
Is to know:
Time is nothing
and
there is nothing
but time
4 K LX
