I Am Going To Start Living
Like A Mystic
Today I am pulling on a
green wool sweater
and walking across the park in a dusky snowfall.
and walking across the park in a dusky snowfall.
The trees stand like
twenty-seven prophets in a field,
each a station in a pilgrimage -- silent, pondering.
each a station in a pilgrimage -- silent, pondering.
Blue flakes of light falling
across their bodies
are the ciphers of a secret, an occultation.
are the ciphers of a secret, an occultation.
I will examine their leaves
as pages in a text
and consider the bookish pigeons, students of winter.
and consider the bookish pigeons, students of winter.
I will kneel on the track of
a vanquished squirrel
and stare into a blank pond for the figure of Sophia.
and stare into a blank pond for the figure of Sophia.
I shall begin scouring the
sky for signs
as if my whole future were constellated upon it.
as if my whole future were constellated upon it.
I will walk home alone with
the deep alone,
a disciple of shadows, in praise of the mysteries.
a disciple of shadows, in praise of the mysteries.
~ Edward Hirsch ~
(Lay Back the
Darkness)
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