My mind is full of images and rider of the rainbow-wind Perhaps I am a king or one who sits at the king’s elbow and has his ear My heart is full to overflowing: a goblet of the blood of suffering or a chalice of the wine of never ending love
Who or what I am I cannot say but this: If you see me in twilight I might carry a torch or the lantern of the sun or silver candles of eternal moonlight
I have lived in the spirit house of my own dreaming and been dreamed into breath out of nothingness by the mystery of near-distant and evolving divinity First roots of my shadow-stirring are deep down like forked lightning in the dark fertility of this passionate Earth
Possibly I am a bridge or the points of contact from which bridges aspire into arches and traverse time and space – I cannot be accurate
I am full of the tales of monstrous outrage and punishment – a Yes a No – Who and whatever I am I become but a stitch in the tapestry of unknowing I merely go from here to here – through episodes of mists and islands
Images pass over me like a stone battered and bathed at the edge of the seductive sea And I am carving out at the interface of stone and water moth-like words Consider No matter how much I am aware now or in the beads of now hereafter—how much vaster are echoes of my unknowing!
Read the whole article in Ovi Magazine, HERE!