Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Milk of Millenia

I am part of the load
not rightly balanced.
I drop off in the grass
like the old cave-sleepers, to browse
wherever I fall.

For hundreds of thousands of years I have been dustgrains
floating and flying in the will of the air,
often forgetting ever being
in that state, but in sleep
I migrate back. I spring loose
from the four-branched, time-and-space cross,
this waiting room.

I walk out into a huge pasture.
I nurse the milk of millenia.

Everyone does this in different ways.
Knowing that conscious decisions
and personal memory
are much too small a place to live,
every human being streams at night
into the loving nowhere, or during the day,
in some absorbing work.


steven said...

i work to be as available as possible to this - when a door opens and in walks something that takes me into the big flow and away from the details. steven

ds said...

Sky-blue-pink!! (she would approve--and agree)

Terri said...

God speaks to us in dreams, I think, because that's the only time we are quiet enough during the day to listen.