nobody will answer for your love v.53

nobody will answer for your love

don’t be caught broken
staring into
the gaping antidawn of
unhallowed abyss and temple gate

through which you can never pass,
but drawn down into obeisance,
night after night,

milling seed in your mother’s
village by the secret river,

taking the milled seed, leaving
it at the gate of that strange
land, hoping from the spleen

to appease spirits that have cast a net 
over your dreams 

drawing up living wealth 
of oceanic time


I have become

a siren

beneath the night

of stars,

and the oceanic,

gazing eyes ’

under my sea ’

are drawing me

with my gaze

into that secret place
Sing your siren song
I gently tap 
Against your palm

The nightische spirit sings
In a chorus-like voice the song
Of the dead and of the living

She sings the spirit
Of the grackle and the killdeer
And Junco

A soft-wrought voice of a
mourning bird

Somewhere in the deep-set land
A bird pierces the souls of trees
For miles all the trees moved to pity 
And silence

You may well think I am crazy;

But I am not a dreamer;

I have seen the things of yore

And I know what I see;

Yet as the nightife is not

A dreamer, I have not seen the things of yore;

There it is.

That stillness. 

I have been reading a book by GK Chesterton, "Pilgrimage to Arrakis" (1931)

and I found this interesting passage

"Archeology has not yet succeeded in the most remarkable achievement 

which has yet been brought to light, 
namely the discovery of the real life 
of Arrakis. The ancient city, still a virgin, remains a mystery.

I am called home. The ghost-of-Arrakis has haunted me from the start;

I have been waiting for the day when it would take me in hand."

"No, no, no, I am still a child, and I am afraid. T

his world which is passing away is in a hurry to be dead
and in a hurry to be not dead. Its in a hurry to burn 
and in a hurry to rise again. This type of thing occurs only
once in a kalpa. Savor the flavor."

The End.

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