Bleak
in Janus...
Replying, when better bitter judgment tells, not teaches, tells simply
to
disappear for a while, hole up until whole. Or wholer.
Wholer than now;
than somewhen, anyway. Will never learn to do other than lay
inner being
wide open. That opened wide, shining, silvering, quivering like
a freshly
pulled liver gestalt has allowed, invited entirely unintended brutal
laconic
cudgeoling. Icarus flew, and fell. But he flew, and was
glad. Should
learn from his lesson, but won't...can't.
The Grail must be "a friend".
Toil on. Plod. Walk. Hop. Hop again and skip.
Wax some feathers on
arms, spread them wide, feel the wind; let Bernoulli help; alone, always,
feeling millions of antecedents witnessing; soaring, higher, all the
daylife
through; join geese in communal lead and followership, all alone.
Alone
soaring; traveling in groups, still alone. Damn self-aware.
Last quarter moon will rise late turning ice crystal snow to diamonds.
Predawn will glow warm, earlier now, blending bitter cold dark out.
Diamonds will merge to ultra and violet velvet then to gray then quickly
now
to rose to orange to yellow to white, then blinding brilliant herald.
Higher sun will start to feel warm to beings with feelings like Garfield
cats. Ever alone, life goes on, hope springs. Breath continues,
as breath
does. Good.
God.