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every poem an epitaph
between two waves of the sea
This journal should be viewed with discretion.
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Created on 2011-09-05 05:11:05 (#1088429), last updated 2015-07-24 (515 weeks ago)
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77 Journal Entries, 100 Tags, 0 Memories, 5 Icons Uploaded
| Name: | a lifetime's death in love |
|---|---|
| Location: | London, United Kingdom |
| Membership: | Moderated |
| Posting Access: | Select Members |
Only in time; but that which is only living
Can only die. Words, after speech, reach
Into the silence. Only by the form, the pattern,
Can words or music reach
The stillness, as a Chinese jar still
Moves perpetually in its stillness.
Not the stillness of the violin, while the note lasts,
Not that only, but the co-existence,
Or say that the end precedes the beginning,
And the end and the beginning were always there
Before the beginning and after the end.
And all is always now. Words strain,
Crack and sometimes break, under the burden,
Under the tension, slip, slide, perish,
Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place,
Will not stay still.
The detail of the pattern is movement,
As in the figure of the ten stairs.
Desire itself is movement
Not in itself desirable;
Love is itself unmoving,
Only the cause and end of movement,
Timeless, and undesiring
Except in the aspect of time
Caught in the form of limitation
Between un-being and being.
Sudden in a shaft of sunlight
Even while the dust moves
There rises the hidden laughter
Of children in the foliage
Quick now, here, now, always—
Ridiculous the waste sad time
Stretching before and after.
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