Archive
08/28/08 - (2)
Dialogue Between the Spirit and the Soul
This quiet Thursday night, I invite my abandoned, deserted, deracinated spirit To enter into a dialogue, albeit muted, with my lonely soul,
That they might try to find a solution To the persistent misgivings they're having about death, A detour around the dead-end existence
Mortality imposes on us, at the birth of consciousness, Knowing that there is no exit, no exeunt omnes, No escape hatch, that allows us safe passage to the afterlife.
But needless to say over and over and again, Nothing eventuates from such forced colloquies Between our flesh and bones and our isolated souls.
Indeed, after man's fall from grace, How could he, conceivably, redeem his paltry being, From the daily catacombal cobwebs of impending nothingness,
Conjure the possibility of eternity, While the rest of earthly hurly-burly merely prevails, Going about its primordial processes of mitosis and mutation?
This quiet Thursday night, As my spirit and soul struggle with their inescapable fate, I let both of them loose, determined to go it alone —
The phantom of what I might have been, Had I ascended from gracelessness — And soar into the deathless dimension of breathlessness.
08/28/08 - (2)
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