Two indigenes
Disguised as one,
Twin rivers of convergence
Like an end.
What I say to you
You must calm your mind
For hearing, understanding
Is just not possible,
Nor even desirable,
For you think there is no other
When, in fact, there is no other.
Out of all the shadows magnified to view
Which one is me?
How I show myself
So incompletely,
As if I wasn't there,
No parent with their boat horn
To remind you you are theirs
But a glitch in the grass waving
The deepest whispers,
Like that, at least,
No analogies can hold
The opacity of the form,
It is for you
To see through always
But know, that some prey awaits,
If you pray, if you pray.
The invisible honors program
Rolls out its ribbons every day,
You see them as palms swaying
In impartial sun
But you are the one
Choosing
Not what to see and how
To view it, but to see
At all - is there a mountain
Without meaning? A molehill
Without a mole?
The shadow walks with you
Like a suitcase
Of all you've collected
From the hotel rooms
Where your shoes have rested.
It perks up at noon,
Stretches out in the evening,
But never completely disappears
Until you're vapor, of course,
Something easier to do
Than you ever admitted,
A matter of screwing your eyes
And holding still.
Something is twittering
And it waits
For you to make it up
With everything you've learned
And are feeling -
So it can vanish again,
To a permanent record
Of your work
In the halls
Of wisdom,
Where Leonardo is hung.
