The Chance
The blue-black mountains are
etched
with ice. I drive south in fading light.
The lights of
my car set out before
me and disappear before my very
eyes.
And as I approach thirty, the distances
are shorter than
I guess? The mind
travels at the speed of light. But for
how
many people are the passions
ironwood, ironwood that hardens and
hardens?
Take the ex-musician, insurance salesman,
who sells
himself a policy on his own life;
or the magician who has himself
locked
in a chest and thrown into the sea,
only to discover he
is caught in his own chains.
I want a passion that grows and
grows.
To feel, think, act, and be defined
by your actions,
thoughts, feelings.
As in the bones of a hand in an X-ray,
I
want the clear white light to work
against the fuzzy blurred edges of
the darkness:
even if the darkness precedes and follows
us, we
have a chance, briefly, to shine.
~ Arthur Sze
~
(The Redshifting
Web)
