When the poet
invites you in,
it will be
just you and he,
in the open spaces
one another’s faces…
Those are not just words,
they are methods of travel,
conveyance of sight
language that mends
a corner in the bookshop
for a private conversation,
between the two of you
and every other reader there ever will be.
Don’t you know that the mountains
are not stealing from the stars,
that rivers convalesce by the seashore,
and await their turn
The elements are not jealous
of one another…
But concordance is frailty
to the man made mind,
so better thinking and thinking about “better”,
breaks the back of balance.
Similarity is the new religion,
is the flightless bird,
is mankind’s new Bible.
The result of sameness is apocalyptic,
written on every page
and it isn’t starting tomorrow,
and the tomorrows
a world of sorrows,
everyone looking for a bird in flight
carrying a message to the next town over…
A leaderless sustaining message
that can kill a religion.
No one’s heart is bright, when you can’t see.
When Blindness can run fast enough
to catch up with itself from behind,
sight returns when it reads “Ignorance” on its own back.
And when they embrace one another
Forgiveness becomes the new name of both,
and then the real work begins.
It isn’t the end of humanity
it is just the end
of the way we have been.