Holding to the Tendency For Existence

The Tendency For Existence

(Trish jean)

Lay between, in darkness
Vertical descent
Sheathed in you
Beyond skin
Origins

Receding
Like it’s fatal
Touched by truer truths
Sparking eternally
Declare

Return
And breathe
The talk of fingers
Entire possession
Lay beside, in light


I miss letters. My best friend and I used to write to one another prolifically before technology gave us text messages and affordable phone calls. Through writing letters we created anticipation, we made the letterbox a welcome place. We held identities by means of how we addressed the envelope, the paper we wrote on and the by the style and illustration of our penmanship. We no longer keep a record of our personal and shared journeys, which is such a shame. And it’s harder to find an envelope to write on the back of!

Fortunately I had a reasonably sized envelope in the car that I was able to repurpose today to capture a disjointed exploration that went from one side to the other, arrows from the bottom to the corner over there, my broken pen scrawls illegibly dancing my thoughts into something I could later decipher and share.

I wanted to take some emotions and thoughts and fashion them into some kind of story around this poem. I also wanted to play with the idea that how I climb into a poem and fall from the title between the lines and am moved along by the words and make meaning with the feel of them might be vastly different to your experience of it. It’s what makes me lean to abstraction in my poetry crafting. There’s a story I’m not quite telling in this poem, but I’ve let its essence flavour the writing below. For me it is multi-relational as there are stories and inspirations everywhere and then there’s imagination too. There are many meanings I can overlay on it- but it is for you to take the skeleton, put your own flesh on it and see what that means for you, if it moves you.

Lay between, in darkness
Vertical descent
Sheathed in you
Beyond skin
Origins

Sometimes I am not here. Neither am I there. I float beneath the sky and above the ground on silken ink in the small sight of moon. I cannot truly be detached. I am nestled amongst those many drops of the ocean and they connect me to other. I am buoyed along in a shared, teeming life. I want connections both strong and tenuous. It is the weaving of life, the making of human stories.

I feel a want to make meaning in a situation where there are few words and where I cannot even touch with my eyes, only with memories. Picking past my assumptions and aspersions I can hush what is disquieted by turning sounds into pathways, plaiting my sense of things into rope, fashioning anchors with that immutable thing that is transmitted and gifted when you look into the eyes of the beloved.

As I prepare to quest I watch the elements. I am those elements, wind and water, cold and heat. I am untouched in my sanctuary but they resonate for they are me. When you look how do you really see? Do you turn your feeling on and off? Is your heart connected? Those outer things, do they have their own means of descent to those parts of you that feel and wail and rejoice and quiver?

As I lay between, in darkness I can leave moon, roll over, thrust, slide down into the water, into my own deep. Meaning may be elusive, but the tendency towards existence is an unending search for revolution or sometimes just a quieter, drawn out evolution.

Receding
Like it’s fatal
Touched by truer truths
Sparking eternally
Declare

The tendency for existence, a ceaseless stirring. The whirling within sets my mind challenging my deepest knowing in a game where cooling tries to quench the heat but cannot be victorious for they are yin and yang and live together. And so I can no more ignore as slit my own ethic and human condition, existence, the surety of yours, fellow traveller.

Exiled within. Even as you move about the day, amongst people, hiding behind time as it moves along. Reach though. Don’t stop to avoid judgement. Do give absence some kind of permission, but I like your breath in my lungs, don’t be gone too long, I mute exhalation and hold on.

Where are you if you’re not in the familiar haunts? Is it self-retreat? Too touched, you have gone to the self-gentling of containment, but not separation for love is still given, still waits, does not change. Take it in and abide with it. And if you like, choose with consciousness to do something with it. Let it be your ascent.

Return
And breathe
The talk of fingers
Entire possession
Lay beside, in light

Do not stop long at lament. It is a bleak station whose purpose is feeling and consideration, but it does not give provisions, nor nurture, and it is poor at giving directions. It is where the lines meet, where you can be shunted. Try not to go backwards. Next travel to a point on the compass or another place of the heart where there are tunnels back to the light in your life.

The thought of you lingers and lights me up. In my body it awakens over and over. The sight and taste of your smile pours out of my heart, streaming over the ridges, creating tracks to guide you there, carving tracks to lay you there. Bidding you come to draw on my body your adventures and what they have meant to you.

Lay beside me and let us dawn again. Let tempo be the tide. These things may be tidal. In their own time yet constant and eternal. White noise does not mean unattended or disassociated. Real presence may just be so deep. And most is unrevealed and not made manifest but the tendency for existence will birth it, give it to us as the intimate face of unity.

Hope – for there is joy in the morning.

Advertisements

One thought on “Holding to the Tendency For Existence

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s