Unburied Papyrus

Embroiled in the enigma of existence in more strange & unsettling times, one must hold onto the miracle or risk becoming one of the walking dead. These entries are a poor approximation of my life & the wonders that pass through my spirit. If I could communicate properly how much I love you all & assign a tireless list of evolving names that fit I would, instead I offer these random reflections.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Many Choose the Narrow

The best seek a name forever honored by the gods while the rest eat their way to sleep like nameless cattle.

-Heraclitus

Everyone is unique while holding many similar characteristics. The basest, vile human being can coo a tone of voice before degrading into a closer semblance of honesty. We can believe anything if we try hard enough. So many illnesses & revelations, dreams of sleep, dreams of waking, walks with women or dogs, cats on the lap, heads on the lap, astonished joy in the honest masks of children. How does a crow sound like an eagle for a split second? How does a person seem like the one for months or years? What is a dream but a landscape furnished by the mind that reality cannot rise up to, or surpasses? Surprises. May they come from every angle. May we adapt with integrity.

The intact pulses in my skin. Washes of sound stand my armhills & sprout goose pimples. Moles conduct misguided searches for vegetation. A voice from a colored set of lips. A lengthy finger so nimble plays around another's chin. Hair is cleaved. The conducts of interrelationship circumspect. This move, that move. Air growing stale. In the human wreckage, past the veils of smoke, past the mangled names, through the tarnished eyes a glint of water plays a healing course.

Claims stamped, the delicate fur slips through the tunnel, into the morning air for a leap. Fingers ply & pick, strum, & slide. Care extended the tribe's story carried on. The kisses not wasted. Even the kisses never placed. One long journey to the mountaintop. Too long the willingness to cage understanding with scraps.

2 Comments:

  • At 12:08 PM, Blogger Daniel said…

    hey jason

    this is Daniel. glad to see you're rockin it. gimme an email. i have a hunch you check this more often than your email. could be wrong. miss you. hope your world full of rainbows.

    love,
    Daniel

     
  • At 12:51 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    ..many choose the narrow.

    thinking aloud:
    smoke signals in the rain remind me of home
    hidden in the mountains
    my whirlwind is not tamed
    merely matched
    by the name that nature gives her parts
    without our help

    the howl through wet pine
    the secrets I can never keep
    from a crackling fire
    against the shoulders of these peaks

    -amos

     

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