s-poem40

               
                                             
                                         
                                         
Scatterings                
                                        
                                          
Three                                   
                                                   
                                                  
 1.  To Francisco Varela                        
                                  
       with thanks to Charles Hampden-Turner          
                                              
                                                 
Out of the Body                     
           emerges Mind;                  
out of the Mind                       
           emerges Body.                       
So also out the Universe           
                       God;
so also out God                
          the Universe.                    
Mystery out of Mystery.                 
Now.  Forever.                      
                                   
Our rooted skies                       
are nets                          
    out of trees;                
    trees                 
    out of nets:                 
the tangible                           
    creating the intangible;                
the intangible                    
    creating the tangible.                    
                                   
Yet the point of view:                 
so eerily                       
the point of view               
controls, controls.                
So the abstract skies               
    seem a female                
    prepared &                       
               anxious             
        for the pulsing roots;          
so the concrete skies              
    appear a male                      
    awaiting &                       
               needing                 
        the engendering roots.         
So the abstract skies           
    appear a male;                 
so the concrete skies       
    seem a female.                
                                
But triangle                     
      out of triangle:              
               star after star:
any is each;                           
             each is all.                        
                                         
                                           
                                             
                                           
                                          
                                          
 2.  Again to Francisco Varela               
                                             
                                           
Still,                                   
       whoever he is                       
               I'm becoming                  
               and am,               
the tones of my body                      
       keep me apart,                      
                      however vital               
                              empathy,               
       however well I can understand              
       myself and others,               
                          and try to.             
                                          
How the minnows                            
                dart                     
                & wriggle,                    
                    caught in my net!             
How the multitudinous waters                     
drag and pull                             
              as the net lifts;          
swim suddenly                            
              through!                
                                       
Struggling logic, tree—              
    though poorly tended—                
I yet,                             
        when winds &                          
        nettings                           
        tire me,                          
                 lean on you.                     
                                         
At work / at rest,                 
    neither roots thriving                 
    in the dark earth                  
        nor roots withering              
              in the bright air,          
but roots sustained               
by the Rune whose soul is energy,           
              and pleasing it,           
    I and you,                             
        as each,                          
        through each,                      
                      each restore,         
                                    wide-eyed        
    and deep                                   
               as the universe.                        
                                                
                                                
                                               
                                             
                                                   
                                                 
 3.  Energy                             
                                                 
                                                 
. . . n /LL energia, fr. Gk energeia activity,
fr. energos active, fr. en in + ergon work/     
1 : vitality of expression                                         
2 : the capacity of acting                                         
3 : power forcefully exerted                                       
4 : the capacity for doing work                                    
                                       syn see POWER                 
                                                                   
These are the definitions presented in                             
Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary.             
I am pleased;                                          
                                                      
for Energy, Radiant Love, is:                          
the creating soul of my Rune Lord,                     
the Primal Poem / the Primal Song,                       
Deepest and Holiest of Mysteries.                    
                                                     
The universe,                                  
the consciousness-rooted universe,              
the ever-changing universe,                 
the violent, beauteous universe,             
alive, alive/ beyond                     
our keenest imaginings,                  
transformative, magnanimous!                     
                                             
But manifestation on manifestation                    
the universe is;                            
not Energy.                                    
Within, and yet as well without,              
Energy—                           
        fetal here                           
        on my card table chair                 
        to defend my feet                 
        from the vanished flea           
        (from who knows where)       
        my eyes caught sitting                
        black and smart                 
        on my opened poets' calendar               
        but my killing finger's               
        slow approach                        
        wanded into vexing air, I                  
        sag—                             
              Energy predominates,              
                       enigmatic, warm.                        
                                                 
                                                   
                                                     
                                                     
                             1–13&14–83        
                                                        
                                                          
                                                       
                                                       
                                                       
                                                      
                                                      
                                                       
sm026      post 1032