The Light Within
I fixate on time constantly
When i hear the wail of a diesel horn
or smell fresh mown grass
or look out at the inland sea i hear the sound
and i’m transported to the stored light of another time
each magnifying the other more deeply every time.
We build our lives on the memories
of the life we live
and the lives we live are built on
moments we have lived.
We live within the memories of
all there is … and all that came before
We are the instant and the infinite past and
everything between the vast vista of ever returning light.
My thought incentive is to
stretch time, to live within the moment
or as someone said of Love;
‘’Within the within within.’’
The world revolving then revolving within the
revolving … deeper movement into the
allusion of stasis between where
more awareness lies waiting for me to see
into the worls and sworls of the wood within the wood
i’m working with, between the spaces of the
fingers on my hand the swirls of my finger pads and
deeper still between the tiny beads of
salty brine into the plasma of the deep
inside, the sea within the
space between the blades of grass
where the fluoride and chlorophyl lies hidden
where tiny moisture droplets flood the subtle link between.
It’s all memory based from the
DNA twisting its way into our being
the mechanics of our lungs, the molecules of our
wakening selves … how could we breathe without
the breath that came before and before that?
Each breath remembers the heart beat
remembers the air within.
It’s all memory.
The planets revolve and
what’s beneath remembers what it knows
each experience resting upon the next.
A kaleidoscope of colors turning
twisting patterns and forms of light
creating new patterns and forms
from what came before connected
bleeding outward curling back to know
each moment of light filled memory.
The homes we live in
filled with memory of angles and
fittings and support from the dawn of creation;
cave man’s fire the furnace and the stove
memories from the dawn of time.
The modern stove a memory of the first fire given
to and to and to and
round and around the blocks are building
no different than walls or bridges or the spiral helix
past memories linking us all.
We are immersed in memory, our lives emit memory from
the light that surrounds us.
Pulls the memory from all things.
Is the road that memory drives on spilling outward
like a ripe orange.