Friday, 25 October 2013

Donkey's Ears

It began with relinquishment -
a palm leaf bows before ripples of summer heat
as dust gathers, thick on lips, while eyes, hurt by the glare 
of sun off white concrete, are shielded by the saluting hand - 

small duties morph
into surrendered shadows before the light.
muscles made useful for a great good
toil though dawn to dusk hours, the weary tongue 
curls around learned chants broken by screams when
a whip bites the unwary bicep.

Feet feel their path to hoof, hoof
pushes against the earth -
both body and planet

Ears grew tufts of hair,
The better to hear Your name with.’
The teeth grew thick and blunt,
‘The better to refrain from uttering
the Profane’.

From early to rise
to late to bed;
light not to be wasted
nor mind addled
by useless learning – 'it was knowledge

that first cast us adrift.'

Hands have become little more than tools
and innocent heart beat to the drum:
work for 
greater good
of a name 
that cannot 
be named.

There is the promise that a soul will live on
even as eyes lose the ability
to distinguish colour or
words became so heavy
they drop like lead into the pool
of psyche.

It was a dream that saved them.
An idea unfurled across thick minds -
a blanket
spread on the Spring clothes line
to beat back the dust
that had clouded thought - that drove
cloying incense from the censor.
Censorship in mist and smell
defeated by thought
as if mind had dipped itself
into the waters
of a clean well.

The ears receded into shells,
the river of life whispered words
back into mouths.

A free man
without free will that binds
and commits to an afterlife
while ruining the fruit of the earth.

Free within the time frame
mortality allots.

Free to be shifted by the events -
air currents and rainfall
dislodged by the wings of a butterfly
in the  South American jungle.

Whimsy dizziness spun out
into the air
as lungs expand and deflate/
expand and deflate/
things move on like oxen at the mill
round and round - each step different
and the same.

Young or wizen crust, the mind frolics
even as the muscles collapse.

Geppetto I am home! I am ready to learn
bring me books and voices - the cool logic 
of science and the poet’s bright eyes.
I am home at last.
Saved; ready to die
by living this singular life granted by chance.

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