Just Passing Through


When my time comes
all the bindings will be undone
immersing me in a reversing flow
currents converting me to a slow
unwinding and un-blinding
the final secrets proving all
geometries under a starlit sky

I will be consumed in the soft
embrace of the colony of soils
among all my partners
there will be solitude out of reason or time

as innumerable endless
trains of delirious thoughts pass by
released into a distant silence
while the witness dissolves into an
ancient rest

I can only imagine the colors
hues never imagined
awakened in a bounty of Soul-space
welcoming release from the wrathful
wrapping of time

seeing life as it truly is–or was–
or wasn’t life at all but much more
an unending story too bright too varied
its interpenetrating multiplicities too
deep and wondrous to be fully known

if they were
we would know
there can be no poverty
no loss no gain no achievement
only the regain of an expanding
astounding journey into form
an endless luminous kinship
on an ever-widening path
leaving behind only a lengthening
shadow of longing


I paddle a canoe
that is not a canoe
upon this river that is not a river
yet it is all mine-the canoe, the paddle
and the river

in the sense of value
or as a rich vein of promise
this is so much better–though
not different from–
the headline news dragging
me through the streets
every day peeling flesh
from my bones

I give thanks to the heat
the cry rising
into my throat while thoughts relax
slipping like rumpled sheets off a
bed of passion

the insects feeding on
my delectable flesh at this
very moment
the moisture in my eyes the air
the sweat the river running
down my arms as I paddle
into the future
or the past

I am evaporating and condensing
in fleeting dreams
all states co-existing
becoming the same in a perpetual
transfer of tall tales
all true and all lies
the river never fully gives up its
secret in the thick stillness

I look at the moon that is not the moon
looking through me in its
reflection on the waters
undisturbed by the motion of my breathing
the movement of this canoe
or the circumnavigation of
my blood into the far reaches
of my limbs

I paddle on without effort
through the languid ripples
into a dissolving horizon
pressing forward at my own pace
mounting the days like ornaments on
this year’s model of passage
from moonlight to total forgiveness

moments of my own division
fall upon what cannot be divided
time stops the moment it is
fully occupied and all instants disappear

into the night
it’s whiteness ever hidden in the darkness
an illusory struggle for all things
to fall into place
even if they have no place
even if they are not things

you can come for me any time now
it is still early but I am ready

6 thoughts on “Just Passing Through

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