WHO I AM
for Hana-Lyn Churchill
Who I am has a lifespan
no longer than who I was
or who I will be tomorrow.
How many fireflies is it
from here to the stars?
There is no birth or death in the moment
and the Big Bang hasn’t happened yet.
Now is present.
Now is future.
Now is past.
The truest way to ask a question
and expect a serious answer
is to make sure no one is listening
on either side of the silence.
Nothing is Now.
Nothing is Here.
Who needs to disappear?
We’re all just rivers with no banks
losing track of our flowing.
Our knowing is just the spontaneous flowering of events,
wine in the rootless vines of desert tents
looking up at the stars
as if we knew what we were looking at.
The vision is always changing.
God never paints the same sunset twice.
So why cling to your thoughts like personal possessions
as if they were cobwebs in the corners of empty picture-frames
signing the absence with your names?
And don’t tell me everything happens for a reason
when it’s as clear as a painted ceiling
everything happens for a feeling.
Outside my window
Orion rising through the trees
with Sirius gnashing its colours
like the fangs of glass rainbows
smashing at his heels like chandeliers
and the vast oceanic presence of the night
under every leaf and shadow of awareness
when the darkness reflects on itself
and the light kneels before its own intelligence
as the great blood seal of the secret message in the human heart
breaks through the emblems and symbols
it stamped on space like embryos of wax
and releases the stars and the nightbirds into the air
like the profound acts of an unbounded madness
grounded in the facts of why we’re here.