This is the solemn sacred call
that reflects fully the Arc of me:
to be with words entire as more
than things, as greater than sums,
as beyond the base materiality of
existence and its awful finality.

This is the tiny whisper I hear that
others cannot perceive, but it is
there as the words unfolding flow,
sometimes like honey, sometimes dripping
like a flowing stream after melting
spring snow, always wet with inevitability.

 

26/9/2024