Sunday, August 14, 2022

Weekend Meditation

It's not just the death of one
     but the death of four:
            Sweet Katie,
            Noble Michelle,
            Sister Triska,
            Dear Cheryl ...

All hopelessly entangled
      and estranged
And me a flinty Scot
      too stubborn to yield
To ... what? I never knew,
      it only came back
On the analytics report
      as submission.

Love was constant, though,
      as familiar as this morning
With only the sunflowers
      in the role of the desired.
It was me, always me, 
      who found a form to fill
And, in filling, 

Innumerable loves
      that criss-crossed lifetimes
And reminded me what 
      I'd yet to learn
Although the nearly remembered
      brought me only a little closer
To where I was, 

Subjected, as I
     was, always,
To the natural patterns of time 
     in this dimension, 
The one of storyline
     as inevitable 
As the green in the grass 
     that grows towards 

Another season,
     where love is expressed
In new minds to articulate
     the old thoughts,
New hearts 
     to carry the beat,
New diamond light resistances 
     that mirror

For me to contend with
     in my inner shell
That never quite 
     gets to where
The ocean 
     meets the shore,
The individual expression
     is shared

Except as an echo
     in the hollow cove
Where the witches make you
     remember who you were
When the lack of love's
     lack of consequence
Hit like a karmic
     load of bricks --

Itself a line from another relationship
That came in
    by way of Buffalo
Like the wind
    onto Lovegrove
Where the ghosts were still
    too moist to go,

Another artist talk
Dreaming the stones
    as ancient stories,
Reconfiguring the rooms
    of the antiques city,
The animal space
    on innocent spokes ...

Always there were words 
    left for something 
Now missing,
    as monument 
For thought alone
    that forgot itself,
The prerogatives of the heart,
    the reach

For what is always there,
    a constant,
As if the sun can be found
    in a tree,
The stars far enough
There's no danger
   of straying too close.