CONVERSATIONS with invisible friends (9)
DOPPLER
“Sound exists only
when it is going out of existence.”
And breath as it commingles
With time and blood.
Light, invisible
As it travels,
Until it strikes
And rebounds.
Sway and jigger.
We dance
Though these frozen
Words that so
Seem all to hold
Sane and steady.
—
VARIATION
The air, so cool and still
Between the raindrops.
A tunnel of whispering song,
A roar of percussion.
Roofs and gutters
Turn relentless descent
Into catalogues of dance.
—
CERTAIN
Darkness,
observed,
fills with points of light.
—
FRIENDS
Somehow,
a nest of snakes,
an Ouroborous,
a hiss of tasting,
an absence of beginnings and tail-ends,
a scintillation, perhaps a union of wisdoms,
a sine sign, sinuous, insiduous, sidelong.
An egg, druid’s,
serpents egg:
an unknown wonder, mind meetings,
strings, cat’s cradle, constellations,
caput draconis, circumpolar,
always circumpolar…..
we all,
we all rise and fall together,
weak nuclear, strong nuclear,
circumstantial, scribed, circumscribed,
elegantly drunk on small matters,
dark matters,
harmoniously various,
sustaining togethered.
—–
ANTIPODE
Every mirror
Never lies
But tells
The familiar tale
In reverse.
The truth
If any,
Neither one
Nor tother,
But floats invisible,
In between.
—-
MUSING
The dove
Of grace
Descends,
Sometimes called,
Sometimes shot.
—-
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simonhlilly 
Conversations: Invisible Friends at a Year’s Ending
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged art, asides, comment, commentary, friends, gold leaf, ideas, inspiration, Poetry, Ryokan's Mind Moon Circle, wall relief, wood relief carving on December 26, 2016| 2 Comments »
this dreaming breath
named from a confluence
long streams tumbled for a while
on the meticulous dance of sun and moon
clothed in scars and mystery, veiled, draped about.
shaped by a host, a singing constellation of unnamed stars.
—
Having been in the woods
One may never come out.
Though scrupulous,
A whisper breath will still
remain, like the memory
Of mulch in the nostril,
The coolness of the skin,
The crack of twig, a cobwed brush.
We become inhabited-
The same as we ghost
Forgotten places.
Murmur.
Reverie interupted.
—
Leonard
This poet’s voice.
Like honey,
Like an earthquake.
A gentle mountain
With thunder.
Sun and rain,
we smile, we cry.
All vistors
With return tickets.
—
Heart’s warmth, the only sustaining fire.
We are huddled beings, backs to the night,
glorious in our strangeness, bred for our dreams.
Peculiar are the haunted songs echoing,
peculiar the views we insist upon, peculiar the words,
peculiar the moments.
revivified by the lightest touch,
ignited by the slightest breath,
flowered and flowering,
the thinnest web of cells strung together,
pushing outwards,
holding back,
translating silence.
—
This one breath
Is ours.
Then than
Too,
Is gone.
This stream
Of word
Caught in a
Flashlight
Moment
Then
Lost.
Remembering
What is
No longer.
A wonder!
—
Her shell-like,
Bending low to this little earth.
She will turn away
In sorrow and disbelief
Fall and fade
And become dark
And empty
Once more.
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