Page 57 – The Cracked Door

12/7/24 Haiku for the Day

From where does so much
Water come to remake
Everflowing stream?

Blast from the Past:

I’m walking along
The stream, letting its water
Become my thinking

What is possible
Beyond civilization
And its formations?

Blast from the Past:

Shadows of empire.
Prophecy! Deliverance!
Shaking the system

I reach an abyss
I can’t see, filled with joy that
I’m afraid to see.

Blast from the Past:

Clinging to my sails
Or casting myself into
The unfathomed depths

The skull of a horse
As the painter’s brush returns
To the desert sand

Blast from the Past:

The desolate beauty
Of the sagebrush sea, rolling
Over the sand dunes

Among sparks and clouds
Lies a growing stone, a book
Teaching fallen secrets

Blast from the Past:

Entering ritual
Waves. Flames became my water,
Quenched by its fierce thirst.

I left my country
Where political storms rage,
Seeking new stories

Blast from the Past:

As clouds slowly eat the retreating sun,
I lay on the summer grass.
My eyes clothes to this tumultuous world
For just a little while

Within this mute world
I live amid plague and fire
With only language

Blast from the Past:

I search for a sun
That can inhabit my eyes,
And eyes to envision that sun.

The wind winds the
Reed. Yet also the reed helps
Us to read the wind.

Blast from the Past:

Turning everything
Into itself to advance
‘Bout the world, the wind

I’m the wound that grows
From your narrow history,
The fire in your eyes

Blast from the Past:

Our history ends
Not through extinction
But by success
In reducing us all
To animals

Death clings to his eyes,
Donning the skin of the world,
He sleeps in his hands.

Blast from the Past:

Silence comes too late
To escape my passive fate
Death I can’t negate