Saturday, May 19, 2012
In the beginning of time, the skies were filled with flying elephants.
In the beginning of time,
the skies were filled with flying elephants.
Every night they lay down
in the same place in the sky,
And dreamt with one eye open.
When you gaze up at the stars at night
You are looking into the unblinking eyes
of elephants, who sleep with one eye open,
To best keep watch over us.
Ever since my house burnt down
I see the moon more clearly.
I gazed upon all the Edens that have fallen in me.
I saw Edens that I had held in my hands,
but let go.
I saw promises I did not keep,
Pains I did not sooth,
Wounds I did not heal,
Tears I did not shed,
I saw deaths I did not mourn,
Prayers I did not answer,
Doors I did not open,
Doors I did not close,
Lovers I left behind,
And dreams I did not live.
I saw all that was offered to me,
that I could not accept.
I saw the letters I wished for,
but never received.
I saw all that could have been,
but never will be.
An elephant with his trunk raised
is a ladder to the stars.
A breaching whale is a ladder
from the bottom of the sea.
These images are a ladder to my dreams.
These letters are my letters to you.
May the guardian elephants hear my wish,
to collaborate with all the musicians
of nature's orchestra.
I want to see through the eyes
of the elephant.
I want to join the dance that has no steps,
I want to become the dance.
Feather to fire
fire to blood
blood to bone
bone to marrow
marrow to ashes
ashes to snow.
The whales do not sing
because they have an answer.
They sing because they have a song.
What matters, is not what is written on the page,
what matters, is what is written in the heart.
So burn the letters
And lay their ashes on the snow,
At the river's edge.
When spring comes and the snow melts
And the river rises,
Return to the banks of the river
And reread my letters with your eyes closed.
Let the words and the images
wash over your body like waves.
Reread the letters,
with your hand cupped over your ear.
Listen to the songs of Eden
Page, after page, after page.
Fly the bird path
Posted by Hillary Raimo at 7:28 AM