Lowell

Visiting.

And he said to the mountain:

"I realize I've been daydreaming all my life of someone who wouldn't think twice about making me open my hands beneath the earth; thoughts would shudder from the effort.

Let the false while away, stain this turgid shell we've imagined, and-  why is this the one idea that's always male?  Doesn't matter.  There is simply no one like that.

I hold this one absolute at the base of my neck, hoping that some day I'll have to learn to walk again; I'd be lying if I said I hadn't staggered before, though."

-No longer relies on the armor to hold him apart.  With the whole of the old and the new, he'll just be; intangible.  Dust, pieces of metal, or a stone: the importance of holding a reminder is nearly indescribable.

Thus he repeats:

"In love in rain
We've given all it holds.

I wish she'd [you'd] been stronger.
In a moment of weakness tore-

Standing over the land we've forged
Through my hands and your presence.

With a measure of time - of understanding
She could be the male; the only one I've ever known.

I wish he'd [I'd] been stronger. I should-

I could say fantastic, amazing things
To your eyes; Yet I unearth this thought-

But why?"

-burns and decomposes as rapidly as he re-builds and reconsiders. The bird whose birth destroyed a world takes steps capable of breaking the Earth beneath, within, and yet to be discovered in his wake.

Some day his momentum will be felt, forever.
What will he remember then?

Author's Note

Largely inspired by Herman Hesse's Demian.

Reviews

[Pax Analog]

I get the sense of elegiac time-acceleration in this poem. In memoriam to centuries in an hour.

Heart's an egg taking aeons to hatch.

The momentum is that of crumbling chaotic subtle effects, a dying butterfly altering the weather at Stonehenge.