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Inspired by Walt Whitman, a piece on the general complexity of life. |
| I fascinate myself There I said it Gone all the way from a cowering swallow To an arcing eagle One eye on heaven One trained on earth with disdain There goes a creature rejoicing and lamenting All in one glance They say Whitman after all contradicted himself Running his flowery fingers through all that grass So why can't I be fascinated? I too shall contain multitudes My mind carries more lives than a thousand mothers This one sings to a little man inside a flower This one writes in blood on the walls of a prison This one is tired of thinking at all I find myself in the position of a wise man Sitting astride a tomb Transcribing the whispers of the multitude As they slip from one life to the next And there is, I'm convinced, a next. So I etch out the contours of my mind Make a mark of my own here and there but mostly I just listen And perhaps in a few centuries I will learn not to be afraid Of the Being who wove such a mind August 23, 2019 |