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07/07/09 - (2)
The Things of This World
It's all about getting back to the things of this world, Things I can see with my pupils, retinas, Rather than just visualize, symbolize, metaphorize, with my intellect —
Things such as the dragonfly alighting On the water bottle I was lifting to my lips, When some preternatural agency delivered it to me, me to it,
That exquisite creature with two bulging eyes, six hairy legs, A matched pair of iridescent-lemon, filigreed wings More intricate than any Art Nouveau brooch or pendant,
And a segmented tail cloisonnéed with yellow enameling, As poised in my presence as I was in its essence, The two of us assessing each other's quiet majesty...
Things such as the mallard overseeing her six ducklings, at feeding, Not fifty feet from this docked pontoon boat, From where I watch their tiny heads penetrating the lake, first,
Then, thrusting, with thrashing feet, their bodies plunging under, Before emerging with fish, plants, Ceaselessly repeating their ritual, unintimidated by my proximity...
Things such as these waters, trees, this cloudy azure sky, the sun... Things at once ordinary and inordinately wondrous... Things that ask nothing of us but our taking the time to notice them
And, in so doing, acknowledge that they, too, possess spirits, Are also tied to and inspired by the universal soul That guides all our lives, from nonbeing through eternity.
Just before I say good-twilight to the waves lullabying me, That dragonfly materializes again, settles atop my bare thigh. We stare at each other, both of us immortalized.
07/07/09 - (2)
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