22 Sep 2010

Whoever you are, to your endless announcements!
The churtles and burbles and laughters and farts!
The sighs and the comings and the moanings of all which
announce that there is,
that you are,
that I am,
Life.

Whoever you are, to your endless announcements!
Your religions so mindful of all that you think!
And those who eschew the dogmatic and trust
only in life and the lifestyles they lead.
For all of these things are like preachers,
announcing the presence of Christ inside you.

Whoever you are, to your endless announcements!
And life, and oh! life forever you’ll go on,
forever and ever till time is no more
in now,
and in soon,
in what was and is gone and will be again
and the endlessly rocking
cradling rocking
spiral of burning
the harvest of days.

Whoever you are, to your endless announcements!
The savage stands in the foray
in the vestibule,
in the tea room with the china,
his brown-red wind riding upon his skin
dressed now in hides
and dressed now in turbans
and dressed now in all the war hawks
of the mighty one chased to the ends of undone-
his sun dance eyes beating the night
of your announcements
with the truth of the harvest:
the tomahawk of fire and sword.

Whoever you are, to your endless announcements!
For I am but man, and though only fit
to remunerate upon that which is man,
I glimpse the eternal and hope.
Then repelled by my fear I give thanks again
for these endless oh! endless announcements,
for there is neither refuge in that which announces
a being,
any more than there is the nothingness that announces the soul.