I think I hear their cymbals.
I think they’re standing on a quay.
I stand far away, like a rogue.
And look up there! Their signals!
They’ve clambered up a lote-tree.
Someone has wandered into my solemn, hymn-like silence.
Who, who trespassed on my hours?
I’d made it clear that I am not to be disturbed.
Who broke the heart’s captivity inside of its own spasms?
Who, in all the world, has such powers?
And whither, whither this stranger and my sorrows?
I’d made it clear that I, like a god, stay put.
Whither the sly stranger who attacks me like a weaver spider?
I am not used to falling into webs.
The spider-stranger glides softly upon
her stealthy silken pathways…
I think she’s saying something…
about a larger silence, cantilevered over the world.
The Longest Street in the Universe
The longest street in the universe lies between you and me.
An infinitous, intangible, incandescent number of light-years separates us.
(If it isn’t infinitous, it is something resembling infinity and, at any rate, implausible.)
It is a street only you and I and our shadows have walked.
It is a street mysterious as an uncharted sea.
It is a street untamed by the words in me.
I gaze silently at the things that have passed between us, and the things that won’t be.
I muse that it is our fate to forget and be forgotten.
I pray for a kind of unforgetting, in a post-existence.
They say billions of people have already been, and more shall come.
But what are they, compared to you and me?
They are nothing. ........