Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Peter / Rock
I haven't yet become astonished.
My school suit hides a secret life,
but I've yet to be disturbed
by the rushing of the light that dances.
I know running, and the flowing
of its hard muscle body work propelling me;
I shape my intricate worlds of play.
I'll let myself laugh as the sun finds my face.
But I haven't been touched yet, turned
consciously inward - where a breeze does blow
in the heart - by the otherness of things.
I haven't, because when the stones finally do speak
and you hear the voice of the dead -
the lonely cry at the heart of things -
you have to be ready to know the edges of your own flesh.
I haven't been astonished, because this hasn't happened yet.
At sixteen, I am about to be dislodged.
29 May 2012