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A Metaphysical Magic trick in Verse: A moment ahead of time

04 Aug

Cold spring morning rises through the trees,

 descending in a warmed spray from the sunshine heat,

Songbirds herald winter’s triumphant leave.

 Every year I travel its current, past aging farms and its blind curves.

Past its secret shaded tunnels, which fall finds every year.

 

The road is gray; the path is brown with its dark and flattened stones.

An awakening must me made, before the path or the road, slips past the day.

Why am I thinking this way? The road has nothing to say

and the path barely whispers for me to hear!

 

The path, grass well-worn, I have yet to feel its need.

Its urgency has yet to breath. What is it this time, in these surroundings,

my whole existence seems to be in haste for something I mean?

Do I dare stop in the middle of a way to feel what it is I do not see?

My mind begins to creep taking my imagination along.

 Do I take the path and drift away like fog released above the pond?

 without me, they do not seem to be getting that far.

 Who am I? What should I be before I am gone?

 

Yes! I shall stop and introduce myself; with essence in unconditioned time.

I will become footsteps in reason, for the day, for this morning

for just this moment ahead of time.

(Just then, the Heavens Broke into a Morning Song)

 “wake up slumbering grass!” A song I sang before drying dew.

“Arise with your colors and distinguished hues!

Let silence shiver and quake; released in restful opening yawn.

Let my Spirit, in footsteps, move us along.

Let my whistle be your wind,

in a bright and cheerful song.

 

I can strum

the instrument of words.

I can join

in the chorus of the  middle class Trouvère.

I can  bang

the symbols of the banker

and dance on the drums of one-hundred Latin verbs.

I can greet

the truckers who deliver their stories of travel without bore.

I can wander,

among the buildings with their gaping overhead doors

clicking the switch to sounds of whirrrr and roar.

I can arrive

in time for a tea on the sun.

I can fly

full circle in somersault through fading rays of light,

and end my day in a perfect hum.

Awake! Awake! The day for us

has just begun.”

 

Every year I travel its current, past aging farms and its blind curves.

Past its secret shaded tunnels, which fall finds every year.

 

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2 Comments

Posted by on August 4, 2013 in Philosophy, prose, short story, Zen

 

Tags: , , , , ,

2 responses to “A Metaphysical Magic trick in Verse: A moment ahead of time

  1. dsnake1

    August 5, 2013 at 7:52 am

    wow, those are very difficult questions you asked, my friend. 🙂

    i had to look up “Trouvère”, and then the purpose of the poem becomes clear to me. you are shaping up to deliver a song!
    this is a very complex poem, masterfully crafted. i am glad i did not missed it. 🙂

    Like

     
    • ZQ

      August 6, 2013 at 3:13 am

      Thank you …I am still trying to connect the dots that keep popping when I touch them 🙂 at some point I will understand “nothing”

      Like

       

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