The Shape Of Things To Come: Part 3
Loss relinquished but for the disappeared women Confusion midwifed away Competitions defeat echoes sine waves Tangerines in the garden Tangents spun golden from the circle One thing left to know One thing only It bothers not man or boy It is them So the man knows That he will know That he is supposed to understand That he will understand The boy knows That his Dad will know In the day there is a garden In the night there is a garden They only go in the day At night The fear grips them The fever especially the boy As all the boys The man strokes the sweat through the boys hair As all the men The boy cries, first a delicate whimper and then rib-cage sobs As all the boys The man takes care and never falters As all the men The strange gift brought by the mad leaving doesn't allow falter All night all time Runs rivulet amulets Locks of loss like pictures of time Where did they go? Biblical library-like nights of time Passing fevered seething seeping sweating Swept hovering by pistil stem and petal by day Hover fearful minds eye mystical at night Yet they notice A strange occurrence To notice Noticing left with the women Except somehow woven loom-like into geomorphic eons of time Something grew In perfect symmetry with glowing radiance of exponential stars And the fever and the fear Harmonizing triparte in silent agreement Every time all time endless time They notice the garden in their fearful minds eye mystical at night at the terrible mountaintop of the fever and the fear This despite the fever This despite the fear Women are gone Stars increase Garden stays daytime in mind at night Stars glow brighter An understanding grows Complex inevitability underscored by fusion of loss and love Why? Or, where? When? They know who FEAR "What" lives in their every fibre, stitch, and consequence Confession readys itself in their sinew But for now they are relinquished and castigated by the spirit of the truth To endure this newness towards a possible sacrifice Ultimate and enduring and consequence itself So eternal as to be unchangeable A forgetting That what lasted for so long before Would cease to be and to have ever been Or Eternal life without women Which is not death But something different Life's symbol and essence void of element Essence lost Thought at night under fear: What happens in the garden beyond the open black steel gate attached to no fence? I am a prisoner of love. Do I guard the garden or walk into it in dark? I love my son. They are the stars. I know they can come back. This fear is crushing.