#594 - a few of my friends (a calling)

 

18.viii.21

594

2.229

a few of my friends

(a calling)

 

tree and breeze

and star and stream

stone and sky and sea

 

these whom I know by day

by dark

 

clouds, the spread forth valley

birds – here there lit to sing

 

the sun till moon

       still sailing

all ways across the page

 

the sleep to dream

the wake to play

 

breath, this heart beside

the spoken stream

this head and the way we go

 

words know where I’ve been and may

till compost me

you too

jig’s

 

up! atom!

 

ant heights in the branches

and turn back at the tip

shining

sometimes hiding out

 

all manner of creature

and some with no manners at all

 

take two-legs, never shy in the paws

then a low swoop

 

my travels in the garden

(always beyond of itself)

 

and best of all – the invisible!

 

no hours in the poem

echoes as if a mirror fixed

where time untricks the clock

 

will you tell me please

which part is not

resounding?

 

words invent us

or one might say

the same words

summon me often

because – to put it simply –  

they know how I mean to mean

 

 

(cf #274, related theme)