Novalunosis
hope begins in the unknown,
in a cosmic birther of all radiance
and oscillations.
hope begins in the hidden hand
on the matrix of our reality
softening the ground of our being.
nine days has nine nights,
ocean water beats 7x7 shores.
on my month’s mind, there be beeswax
burning for son and children of war
until the waters reach another coast.
twenty-four miles named fierce and strong,
tell me what it is like to live without
curiosity. nice is nice, but one needs nerve.
tell me what it is like to live next to paradox.
miles with a sacred basket on her head,
drones swarm the freedom under an iron dome.
hearts beat for human kingdoms to be crushed
by stone. hearts wait for the supernatural
to usher in the fifth. wait to profit on rebuilding.
who sits shiva? who wails…
in the morning rush, ‘stop the world’!?
who carves out space within us,
fills it with creativity? who is seduced
and diverted from true purpose? who
seeks opportunities to destroy the fruits?
who unties the tangled threads
of destiny that bind us?
there is nowhere for the water to go.
this world we can not duplicate.
can we release each other…
from the entanglement of past mistakes?
let each of our actions bear fruit
in accordance with our desire.
who is illuminated in the present moment?
in the unexpected silence suspended
on the gate in sway with the hum of the wind
on a warm clear day.
sleeping dragon manuever
in the last light of a new moon hanging
over the cityscape, sirens rush forward,
cars reverse clear to the tunnel.
clear the day to try to gather peace.
on a blue planet soaked with rubicund
Earth. dirt raped flesh marked in wars,
arms chained to the front line of cars,
hands concreted in weighted barrels
behind signs and flags and chants.
elderly lady misses a doctor's appointment.
genz delayed from buying his first home.
amped protest to protest same as the holyland.
some serious, some trivial, one grand.
DA begs recompense for time stolen.
lives taken, what does it change?
awareness advances the march,
the protest, the cause in all the causes,
man…
have you been to the Telesterion?
circled the inner sanctum of the square
to listen to Baubo? listened to the anuran?
have you ever sat in a state
of novalumnosis, safely landlocked?
now imagine never to have those experiences.
finish the night with a shooting star
in the ruddy-orange arm falling primrose.
on the jasimined night air, recite
terra incognito. there are vast ranges
of experience we know nothing of,
within us. there are vast realms of consciousness
still undreamed of. and when we escape
the barbwired entanglements of know thyself,
knowing we can never know,
we can wonder and ponder in the fine delight
where the pinked fuschia hangs beneath wisteria,
purpled and twisted on a little tree.
for you are the ground and fruitful vision,
the power and fulffillment as all is made whole once again
…and so it is.
