Absence of the heart
Is the testimony of pain.
Is words, words only…
A small salty rain,
The wind slaps
With a wet, alien palm.
The day has gone blind, and grown,
Grown into a real titan
Of the white desert of blindness.
A quiet, quiet cause —
This right is yours.
Rise up, and walk on the ice
To the rhythm of your heart alone,
To your own unreplicable rhythm.
Just now I touched my chest
And felt my heart quivering there.
This must be one of the bad times.
I think it is quivering with remorse
And exhaustion. Once I saw a heart
Beating in a documentary. I was a very
Little girl and the sight disgusted me.
Throbbing and not stopping my heart betrays
Me and yet remains sure and true, a thing
Of nature. Earth bleeding
Its guts out on the sea floor exhausts
Me with remorse and shame, and yet I have to trust it
As wealth is proven by how terribly it devastates
Itself, and I am but one symptom among billions of the wealth
Of Earth. A tired feeling that is recuperated by a passing spaceship
Or an infinitude like fame but more universal. I will have to miss you
Earth; I miss you already. And yet when I touch myself whom I should
Not trust it is still only the heaviest and most jealous feelings that bind me to you, like blood.
Outside the house the wind is howling
and the trees are creaking horribly.
This is an old story
with its old beginning,
as I lay me down to sleep.
But when I wake up, sunlight
has taken over the room.
You have already made the coffee
and the radio brings us music
from a confident age. In the paper
bad news is set in distant places.
Whatever was bound to happen
in my story did not happen.
But I know there are rules that cannot be broken.
Perhaps a name was changed.
A small mistake. Perhaps
a woman I do not know
is facing the day with the heavy heart
that, by all rights, should have been mine.
Go your seeking, soul.
Mine the proven path of time’s foretelling.
Yours accordance with some mysteried whole.
I am but your passion-haunted dwelling.
Bring what news you can,
Stranger, loved of body’s humbled heart.
Say one whispered word to mortal man
From that peace whereof he claims you part.
Hither-hence, my guest,
Blood and bone befriend, where you abide
Till withdrawn to share some timeless quest.
I am but the brain that dreamed and died.