losing our origins

to forget one's origin is a blessing. to have so many influences, so many sources, that ones roots become obscured is to find oneself grown and matured. a river is mysterious because we cannot quite imagine its source. however hard we might try, the fern lined gullies of a river's youth will always be more numerous, more varied, darker, more secluded, and more tree-lined than we might imagine.

and besides, remembering where we have come from only benefits us if it allows us to appreciate where we are. better to awake each morning newly formed, having renounced the armor of yesterday than to hold each breath inside, hoping exhalation is not necessary.

each day i create my religion new again, each day i sleep beneath the stars to awaken in the house of God. each day i set up my stone pillar as an altar, each day i collect the manna, no more, no less than that required.

i have lost my origin - and i am happy.

duel cosmos

let's celebrate this flesh on our bones
pull me close and fill me with joy
and in your darkest lashes
i find the hopes of early childhood

the water lily lives a duel cosmos
of sun and cool current
in the evening i will disappear
to spend the night in the water
at daybreak i am reborn
my hair damp with desire

"you are my eternity,
i am so glad you came"
this cherished guest that
brings a close to our chapters of
winter, and brings the swans
with their summer heat.