THE VIOLENCE IS only momentary. It's the mind that shines by the oval smile, those lines lightly etched on the face. I could bring this down tight, relating a ritual commonplace. It's the beginning of a world for me. Another coming. This election year hypes a public spectacle cast by fabulous, dangerous, other-world creatures. But from another darkness, far out, this child floats in a fluid strangeness of space. From nothing into this so suddenly. And it's still night, still under guidance of the crescented moona. I'm like a man collecting fare, finding folks a seat on a boat to a dream deep in the daybreak of our common forgetfulness. Boil water for tea. Put flame to the soup pan. Potato leek with yogurt. Observe the dark red wood of this table. Consider the vivid presence of wife as we prepare to enter our formal appetites. There are roles the cells know prior to our latent, mental knowing. It's only real at the gates of departure.
Posted by Dale at April 13, 2004 02:29 PM