Saturday, May 19, 2018

Back to the Womb


(1965)

my journey into time
backward through my mind
took me to forests of clouds
which became dark
and rained on weeds
that swayed indolently
in a green breeze

as it became dusk
I heard my mother calling me
before I could hurl the last pebble
into the pond
to frighten a frog away
and make ripples of music
I could not wait to comprehend

the complicated maze clears
into the transparent innocence
of my childhood
and as I think of all the wisdom
of disillusion
I recognise the unsullied past
of languid time
before I travelled into the future
of a dehumanised present

I close my weary eyes
to run back into the one time
which I can relive without remorse:
through the dense trees and marshy clearings
shrill cries of excitement
playful mischief
an endless capacity to marvel and wonder
at every small search and discovery

then I hear myself calling out for me
in helpless desire
if not to be able to retrieve my loss
to retain at least the ability
to live while I last
with nostalgia

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