Too many thoughts
have become headless soldiers
standing impotent watch
over the next great need.
Poke above the surface
to see God in melted babies,
thinned like blood to the brain,
Intelligence borrowed and
low
or Time now desperate for land
to lay down roots deep enough
to soar sequoia-like.
I never had potential like this
when I was young.
On the other hand,
knuckle down and sort the laundry
of memories, picking out the useful
from the tired
cut through in ribbons;
fold it all neatly for storage while you're at it.
This chore gets harder and harder
every day so check the paperwork:
it's cheerily
indignant
and wants for relevance.
And your progressive lenses
aren't helping anymore.
lila.p.levy (c) April and July 2010
Are waves like wormholes of the sea? The distance a wave travels feels like my writing attempts -- a tiny swell that could become double overhead poetrics across time and space. We dive for the truth and are taken elsewhere to Truth. If coastal tsunami warnings can attest, complex algorithms may be required to see it coming. Gratitude to memory of Hokusai for distorted use of his "The Great Wave off Kanagawa" image.
