Wednesday, April 11, 2007
If you and I were inanimate things
to shine on after we are gone,
made suddenly vivid in a world of lucid dreams
(like stars in the quiet sleep of concrete), it seems
as if then, we -- the two of us-- are drawn
like stones, like comets, like all inanimate things
too soon made bright in fire, burnt offerings
still smoldering: our lives together stillborn and withdrawn
come suddenly vivid in a world of lucid dreams.
We listen, motionless, passive in our subtle schemes,
(like monk Merton, spending his life in stillness, whereupon
he learned the value of inanimate things).
We should be more serious about our mutterings
and such, of linens, needles, pins. And yet we've forged a bond
between us, muffling the silence of such inanimate things--
soundproofed walls! 'Quiet satisfies the soul,' and deep sleep sings,
and you and I, intimate, like stars and suns, like dark and dawn,
I and you are vigilant about inanimate things
like us, made suddenly vivid in a world of lucid dreams.
(Thanks to Megan, for"If you and I were inanimate things," to Michelle at another planet for "to shine on aftrer you are gone," and to moonmaid, for "suddenly vivid in a world of lucid dreams."
Sorry I don't know how to make links to the three of you! :(
The quote 'Quiet satisfies the soul' is attributed to Thomas Merton.)