“in the beginning there was no beginning.
just the desire to begin. and from this desire to begin, form arose
from the formless, the permanent from the impermanent,
the material from the immaterial. if this desire to begin
was planned or unplanned, only the lunatics among us know for sure.”
Attributed to “Sir” F. Thomas Sharp
- in the ocean, the primordial ocean, stands an island
- formed by water, formed by air,
- formed by fire deep in the center,
- formed by earth tossed this way and that.
- the island stands alone,
- alone like a rabbit seen by a hawk,
- alone like a mountain,
- alone like a clear silver lake,
- alone like my father.
- and the island breaks apart
- when a little girl walks to school,
- when a man kisses his wife good-bye,
- when a son learns to drive,
- when I go for groceries.
- and the broken skin of the islands
- feels rain, feels wind, feels sun,
- like salt in a wound,
- like leaves from a tree,
- like a stab in the heart,
- like news of a dying child.
- now the ocean, the primordial ocean, keeps the islands apart,
- as the shore is rocked by the tide,
- as the swallow sings her song,
- as the bus arrives on time,
- as a baby starts to smile,
- and as all of this is so, so it is.