IT'S ALWAYS JUST
ANOTHER MOMENT
The sea is wiser in more ways than one. It rules
the surface of the land - stretching forth its
watery hand to follow the times of tides and
the runnings of the course of the land: those
three-fingered signals in the mariner's eye, the
sextant, the compass, the rule by the stars.
I know of these things only by happenstance,
only by having been told. I'm entering here
my own, wide harbor of thought.
-
My proclamation thusly goes : 'Nothing Is!'
Take that you squeamish landlubbers, you
faithful churchmen grooming your graveyards,
you merchants and builders stuck on your
land. I don't believe in you. It's always
just another moment.
-
Your nod, your acquiescence. Your soft-shouldered
lunch on a parkside bench. These are items in my
notebook - as in an old Brooklyn, watching the poor enter
the in and out of their rancid apartment houses - I nod
to those I know, but embrace the ones I do not know.
Like a prodigal son, to me they are more important.
It's always just another moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment