Archive
09/25/10 - (2)
Beyond Me
Now, it's 4:12, This gloriously warm, if brisk, Saturday afternoon, And the sun I watched take fire over Bumble's Bay, Exactly nine hours ago, Now flames where the moon glowed at daybreak, In the same three-o'clock station on the sky's watch face, As I read it, from the end of this dock, Gazing, with a grateful, astonished squint, At the bay by Minnesuing Creek, alive with water spirits.
Where the sun's inexhaustible force comes from is beyond me. And if "beyond me" calls attention to itself, For being a mere cliché, I feel compelled to defend my choice of this phrase. Since what it means, to who I am now, Is infinitely more than that the ecstasy possessing me Is incomprehensible, inscrutable, ineffable; It's about wonders that emanate from beyond me, literally, From that holy source where sky and soul converge.
09/25/10 - (2)
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