Sub Specie Aeternitatis
Nothing can have as its destination anything other than its origin.
— Simone Weil
For a long time
the clouds have along the edges of things
been gathering —
the earth of course is done with symbolism
and yet still there is always a system —
if not colluding then coalescing:
we are after all always under —
the earth seems out of itself to be rising
but nothing falls from above but water —
and yet it too rises,
like, the author wrote,
the sun —
metaphor for the self
as well as that which it flames in to:
the darkness:
outside my window now
and I can see the ocean
bringing it down into what it once was —
gravity of all undoing —
molecule, atom:
what isn’t burning?
Even the moon,
lit by low tide
and the fire of its path,
ashblack and shadowslit,
smolders in its black bowl.
Some say a storm cometh —
a storm some say,
a storm —
yes, well,
everything begins in the sky —
about the author
