in a confusion of disability
smack smack
I can never remember being smacked
that’s all I remember
no love
as such
exterior marks of a confused god
interior wounds attendant
some 60 years on
forget it
let go
approach the vastness of the open heart
with the same generosity you would now
if you only knew how.
The human spirit is not rational it is a repository of
feelings and impressions
stirred and evaporated with the intention of
alchemy
open to all and sundry
we are from dust and bear the marks
of kneading fired in the furnace of life
carded wool
spun and woven in some pattern we acquiesce to
partake somehow
in a confused and confusing self indulgenced hymn to wisdom
torn between tent and town
we take our fellow earth and create a city
from its entrails
not counting the cost
save in our insecurity
masking our confusion with golden smile
having all the comfort of a hard shiny surface
I do not know that there is meaning in anything
nor that anything can be learnt
observation
watching waiting for the tiger
gatekeeper of the mirage
come to meet me in the desert
I pray that I will have the resources to
deal with his questions
pass the test
drink the
vintage glass of sand.
I can smell seaweed.
