Melancholy Morning
The sky was a sea of lava
As if the earth had swerved
Too close to the sun
Then it was a slice of melon
Dappled in drops of dew
Then it was something else
I don't know, probably gray or stone
Maybe it got tired of all the attention
And closed its curtains.
This is all a play of light
A fleeting evanescence.
As for the light itself
There is no experience of ending or lasting
Living in the realm of the continuous instantaneous
Where the moon sideways smiles while the sun paints the dawn.
Each new color is all part of an ever unfolding now
Expanding out from itself in widening gyres
Until it spirals the entire universe.
To think this way takes you round and round in circles
You don’t get anywhere
The car stalls on the side of the road
An albatross falls into the sea
Every flight grounded by gravity
If everything is now
The past is still with us
And the future a moon in the middle of the day
If everything is now,
Nothing is coming, nothing is going
No one has left and no one arrives.
Near the end of it all
We’re instructed to go into the light
Which for us is the darkness
Where only the light survives.
No comments:
Post a Comment