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Posts Tagged ‘soul loss’

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My white winged soul is over the sea,

Low over the silver waters,

Far from sight, for duty

And the hope of peace.

Gone from this world,

Gone from the next,

Spiralling down to earth

To scour the debris of other’s joy.

There is some small joy in loss,

But not this loss.

Settled and content were we,

As rocks on a sun-warmed hillside

( the popping of gorse, the dust of heather,

the impermanent river of skylarks).

Settled and content, rippled in sheltered shade

(the hum of bees, the dance of gnats).

But each change brings irrevocable change.

Worlds end at every whim,

The ruins dreaming in emptied desolation.

Time, a syncopated stutter

To relive or forget in themes.

The moment before death –

An unravelling of strategy and excuses.

Something pure there, something silent,

Something wrapped beneath the pain and sorrow,

Something unutterably sweet, something eternal flickers

Before the moment and the light dies.

Before the terrible glorious cauldron darkness,

The seething dice thrown before dawn

Where we have lost our voices

And must learn to sing again,

Sound by sound.

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sunlit buddha
—-
JAPANESE SYMPHONY: 6th MOVEMENT, INVOCATION TO RETURN

although thy spirit wanders in what has been or in what will be,
i bring back that spirit of thine, to dwell here, to live long.

although thy spirit be far away, lost in lip-cracked desolation,
i bring back that spirit of thine, to dwell here, to live long.

although thy spirit be far away, fled beyond the seven oceans,
beyond the stilled, rippled wave,
i bring back that spirit of thine, to dwell here, to live long.

although thy spirit be far away, in the sun, in the moon, howling
between the stars, lost disconsolate,
i bring back that spirit of thine, to dwell here, to live long.

although thy spirit has gone far away, to the proximal regions of space, seeking warmth at the fires of the old ones,
i bring back that spirit of thine, to dwell here, to live long.

although thy spirit is raven-ripped, claw-tongued, dipped dark
in deep ravines of anger, lost, raving,
i bring back that spirit of thine, to dwell here, to live long.

in the silent forests, in the wild forests, in the nurturing forests, in the hopeless dawn, in crumbled twilight,

i have here given your soul its own name and it must answer.
it will gather up, and it will be gathered up,

it shall become winged and comforted,
it shall return, it shall return.

—–

fallen blossoms

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