in a box, I found more than a boxful
of diamonds
clusters of light, whole galaxies,
this is not the history of my self anymore.
it is not history
anymore.
dreams, notes sketches, premonitions - it is all there
observed, traced, it may be reconstructed
no need
for the first time I see with a mind
that is not my mind.
what a confinement is the narrow path of cause
and effect
yet we have made the world after these
each moment embraces, just a moment
those little flyspecks, the pitch and pull of passion
desperation
there is a universe below, around, above
each one
a developing something
an emerging something
perfecting
an active possession, all living, all at once
all the lights are on.
not from a distance, looking this way as if at
caged animals
or through a surveyor's lens.
but a radiant luminosity, a simultaneity, relieved of the
burden to think
just one thing.
and with no need for a center, simply no need for that
the total is without boundary
yet gentle.
