Friday, January 9, 2015

HEART THREAD 143 & 144


Every work must be cosmology before biography
but the dinky little bits of life come in too
I tell you you are you and what can you contest
the lawn needs a shave it’s Sunday and no bells
the mathematics of the wind mathom is treasure
rises when the sea heats up long after dawn
everything tends backwards witchcraft was no religion
we knew the things before we knew the knowers
now float rudderless paradise a lake not a garden
a well ensouled by circumstance
the ash we find after a stranger’s bonfire on the beach
the old lost word that once meant god.


Of course still worry about these things
the wind wants in
wind carries in its lap the seeds of sleep
mind in sleep renews its contract with the earth
the dance we call dream, that forgetting thing
there is no natural end to nature
hence all the busy carry up the hill
higher as if wiser so the sea forgets us
brass doorknob warm from the sun going in
how many times does a house get born
the sea’s ceaseless baptism of the shore
and still we live in sin elves without a hill.