Monday, October 10, 2022

The Secret Holiday Lines

The waves seem to let you 
     let it go,
It swirls up sideways,
     pretends to dissipate,
Rolls in again
     with orneryness intact,

The echoing roar
     of what we would call ego,
The cry of the victor
     and what was it worth,
To say you are real
     and of experiential value,

What was nothing
     to anyone else,
Full as they all were
     of the not-your experience,
A froth you had to somehow
     conduct to the shore

To the peal of 
     gull whistles
And the shrieks of
     wet children 
Still caught 
     inside the rapture,

Would it matter
    how you bowed
As you whisked
    the veil away
To what was hardly
    seen anyhow?

You were part
    of the story
That made us believe 
    in the lie
Of who was included
    and who was denied,

What facts were grafted
    from air
And who was made
    to disappear,
Mere loser to the dramatic turn
    of surf,

The story they want
    in the face of
The theme you live,
    that survives
The names replaced
    and buildings swapped,

The tide that swirls 
    around it
Is some old poet
    given wideness of berth
And ample moon
    for baying, 

But a distant background 
    just the same
To the ruling belief 
    that stands
In stark relief
    and takes

What you'd call your life
    and flings it like dead daisies,
What never really moved
    from its vase
And has been in your
    secret keeping

From time immemorial 
    just waiting for your eye,
To see yourself finally,
    as large as God 
And infinitely