We are immortal

I was there with the first myth makers and monks who made up your stories… -Rilke’s Book of Hours

I believe that’s true.  We all were there then, before, and since.  These 100_1452bodies we don, through our seasons of evolution, are garments of varying size, color, style.

The universe, one song, goddess, gods, god’us, allah, yahweh, and many more names long forgotten through time out of mind live in each of us.

At our core, that thing called soul connects us with everything that is, was or ever will be.  We, unlike our bodies, are immortal.

Before we knew, we knew

Before we knew we
knew we knew we knew it all
piri reis mapped it
longitude unknown
known and the map proves it true
mapped fifteen thirteen

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Where did the rabbit go?

why and whither toalice-2

show me now that child’s eye view

someone put it out

I’ll take any clue

to reclaim that carelessly

lost gem from the wood

when the sun breaks through

its glimmer teases then clouds

hide my path again

The hunt begins

we laid the altar
lit fires gathered in circle
faced each direction
made the signs in air
cast words to the elements
the wild hunt begins

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Pole Shift

aperiodic
a third motion of our earth
back to caves for man

one more time into
the prehistoric abyss
then to wobble on.

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No longer tight in the bud

poet of no meanDSCF0008

proportion short-lived van gogh

of words bent to self

destruction on paths

to knowing raw pleasure love

parallel of hate

lips a line drawn thin

no resemblance to a mouth

dry laughter dying

pall not here at all

lids distort the sound of eye

winter’s brittle bones

break on siren’s rocks

desperate to leave the bud

finally blossom

Always questions

I moved soundlessly20121218-230220.jpg

yet ears perked at the gates swing

whooo whooo sounded near

who’s not the question

better to ask why instead

I’m not sure old one

yellow eyes took flight

winging up the small hillside

without wings I walked

No smooth stone

no smooth stone I am
hewn from deep crags all edges
one rough diamond

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Childish questions

far away and long
ago there’s a child I used
to know with wide eyes
asking why inside
not out loud but just the same
why we live why die

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Beach dreams

come ride with me along the sand20121110-210945.jpg

where dusk sits easy on the land

feel her presence close at hand

the guardian Naiad of the strand

 

© Perle Champion 5/4/07

 

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