Spoken Cursive and Other Images of a Life: Eternal Summer

10.02.2009

Eternal Summer

October 2009

Eternal summer
knocks on my bedpost
during these cold nights
like the memories of past lovers

In this aphotic air
you, dear memories,
disrupt
my spurious submission
to winter's solitude.

Tears are my sweet compatriots
who rush to me in a crescendo
of self pity and fleeting
emotion

You are my comfort,
my friends, when I am
abandoned by summer's
salacious breath.

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In order to walk the path towards deeper understanding, the present thinker must abandon all patterns of thinking, all habitual beliefs, and question existence to its most finite decimal. It must be understood that this is impossible to fully achieve without reaching a point of madness. As one nears this state it is as if floating through pitch-dark space, where even darkness itself does not exist. All association with other beings, which tend to the essence of our instinctual nature, is abolished and utter seclusion pervades.

Many miles must be walked through rubble,

others must be asked for help in the search in order to see how they see what is of value,

and decades of digging though soot will likely be required.

The pursuit may be unknown, a pattern of architecture may not exist, and the pieces may not even provide any piece towards a Truth. The instability of this search is overwhelming, but the chance of valuable discovery, of the creation of something more profound than what the building once provided, remains a possibility and thus one must continue the endless pursuit.

Spoken Cursive and Other Images of a Life

10.02.2009

Eternal Summer

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Post a Comment

unknown photographer

Sally Mann