In a self admittedly stitched together
anew in every instant, I say
nonetheless, there's a way not to enjoy
the company of your own soul treasure
however evanescent it is.
Way
later you might wonder how but for now
there's no sense that knows what's missing is missed.
Sitting still, I think I gradually knew
that sitting next to me was the abyss
and couldn't keep from falling in. A coil
of gold unrolled inside and I employed
it to climb the fibre of a self revealed
towards the pale stars in a world twilit.
I ate a violet. I tasted a violet.
— joystjohn
anew in every instant, I say
nonetheless, there's a way not to enjoy
the company of your own soul treasure
however evanescent it is.
Way
later you might wonder how but for now
there's no sense that knows what's missing is missed.
Sitting still, I think I gradually knew
that sitting next to me was the abyss
and couldn't keep from falling in. A coil
of gold unrolled inside and I employed
it to climb the fibre of a self revealed
towards the pale stars in a world twilit.
I ate a violet. I tasted a violet.
— joystjohn
The topic of this, and even some of the images, are (right now) SO parallel (in my mind, anyway) to a chapter in a book I am reading now: "The Abyss" !!! (by Marguerite Yourcenar, author of the Hadrian "memoirs"). It's about a wandering philosopher during the time of the Reformation (a dangerous time for "heretical" thought). In this chapter he's applying himself to some mind experiments and winding up in similar "places" to your poem. I don't know if this describes a meditation experience from the past, or something you experienced on your porch last night! I saw WAVES of violets in my backyard earlier today.
ReplyDeleteso cool. My yard is also covered with violets. I kinda borrowed them for this metaphor. <3
DeleteI love "sitting next to me was the abyss" and then the following experience of climbing out. Beautifully written.
ReplyDelete