“It
is no surprise
that danger and suffering surround us.
What astonishes is the singing.”
that danger and suffering surround us.
What astonishes is the singing.”
Jack
Gilbert “Horses at Midnight Without a Moon”
What will
astonish you first is the singing,
the singing
– no less than a Godsend, a seed,
a remedy or
a boat,
a flood of
crossings, a sacrifice
first hand
like a
dusty garbage-bin:
an
emptiness so hollow
the very
fabric of it –
dead to the
world.
I guess
this is what is called
being blissfully
lost.
Like when
the morning rises
and still
sleepy,
we feel the
tinge of joy
at the
possibilities;
our nightly
quarters receding
into the
spaces
where
memories sleep,
the
unrequited prayers,
sedated for
a while.
The moment,
the here,
the now.
