Make, O Mirrored One

8개월 전

Make, O Mirrored One

.
original poetry
and images
.
by @dpend


bluesprigs.jpeg


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Make, O Mirrored One

Now
Create, O Cold One:
whose life-remnants scatter
o'er fields and gravel,
find metamorphic purchase
amongst biomes of dust.

To malinger, bless—
hale glow-seed of souls,
fork-lightning and wordlessness
in your bosom of unwritten papyrus.

Even you, O Renunciant,
laugh into the grey twilight:
holding an iron pail
and dreaming about the sun.

Your child is the world's navel;
you are born in every morning song
yet unsung,
the faceless clouds are your mirror
and the wind your bridesmaid.

You have come to speak of promises
made in the beginning of time
in the form of parables spun;
you will fulfill the debt
of the ocean to the mount
in rhythm.

Then
Sing, O Simple One;
gush with the reckless abandon
of one thousand endless springs
sprung of that selfsame amphora.

Drink, yet be not sated;
Eat, yet blossom not,
full of wholeness freely gi'en,
remain frost-seed bright-wrought.

As you see the majestic cloak
of endless wild cover the Earth:
with dazzling thread-on-grid
kaleidoscope to climax soon
so I behold you, tender still,
sweet tapestry of Noon.

There is nothing which I love
so much as maelstrom, frigid yours
whose depths I gaze within:
behold myself in vicious tours.

Taken through such rounds astute
whose haste has torn then to the quick
my ever-shaken root.

O Cold One, my Beloved—
may your statue bear much fruit.


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Screen Shot 2019-02-04 at 5.41.14 PM 2.jpeg


bluesprigs 3.jpeg


....
writing and images
by @dpend
.
Feb. 4th, 2019
...


bluesprigs 2.jpeg


sbrum-bot.jpeg


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Goodmorning, we havent met before but i am Britt and although down with the FLU the message just reached me of you generousity for Our house. @quillfire Made a beautiful blog.
Thats so great and an marker of recognision and highly appreciated. So Thank you,
And
Make, sure O Mirrored One:
your loving gesture , we will not forget...!
Have a great tuesday
Gr. From Holland
Britt

Hey all. I have some... plans for this one. I'm not positive it's 100% finished as I did a lot of tinkering just now from the transcribed version (written by hand a few days back.)

I'll likely make a video/audio version of it, but not today because I'm thinking I should turn in early.

Anyway, it feels interesting (and a little uncomfortable) to write more freeform stuff again. When I wrote this piece it was rather channeled and came from a heartfelt space, but just not sure I've captured that same feeling.

I don't know... let me know what you think! And I'll look at it again with a fresh mind again tomorrow.

In gratitude,
Dan

·

I really appreciated the flow of this one. The words felt good (and slightly uncomfortable) sliding off my tongue. It painted fun word pictures in my brain. :-)

#powerhousecreatives

Very nice my friend. I appreciate your talent and writing.

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Your child is the world's navel;
you are born in every morning song
yet unsung,

Still this poem sings of new life. It seems to be a contrast to the last poem you wrote but actually a logical continuation from end to beginning.

Singing of sprouts of Spring coming from the frozen earth is as singing of life itself. If we could all be as tender and fresh.

Hello d-pend,

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Thank you.

Even though I've gotten used to your upside down photographs, after a the second sleepless night, it is not much fun to be upside down to try to understand this poem :)

I read Mirrored as reflected, as copied.
Mirrored also as reflecting ("behold myself in vicious tours"), reproducing ("may your statue bear much fruit.")
= cold
upside down

Even though the poem poses a challenge ("Create", "sing") that seems utterly impossible given the frigid circumstances (frozen winter, death), it may also be read as the hopeful promise of resilient beings (from the tiny bud that resists winter to the deep-rooted tree that dies without dying).

The latency of life in the waiting poses similar metaphysical questions like those who wait for the virtuous after-life or those who burn the candle both ways may pose.

There's so much to learn from the simplest things. A tapestry of sages teach us by silence and patience.