As from the earth the light Balloon
Asks nothing but release —
Ascension that for which it was,
Its soaring Residence.
The spirit looks upon the Dust
That fastened it so long
With indignation,
As a Bird
Defrauded of its song.
As from the earth the light Balloon
Asks nothing but release —
Ascension that for which it was,
Its soaring Residence.
The spirit looks upon the Dust
That fastened it so long
With indignation,
As a Bird
Defrauded of its song.
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May 17, 2012 !!!
“The moon is almost full”, some line on I Ching translation. Could not be other way 39 days after easter in the AD/BC calendar so civilly accepted by Accounting Science all over. Medicine no longer addheres to such gregorian daily math.
In fact I was looking for a comment on the poem above and I find myself in a drive to post a first comment. From Lisbon, Portugal. It takes a lot of “gall”, I mean bold and naughty daring.
A bore? But in Portugal the day is also Spike Day, for the ear acorn…On the streets of Lisbon there are maids selling – or late in the day giving away – nosegays, tight with poppies, daysies, acorns, olive branch and more. To carry home and keep behind the door until the next one comes yearly. I have one too, dried stiff, archeological from some years back…
Anyway the spike does not ascend at all but goes up very proud and upright this time of the northern hemisphere year…As saying: look how ascensional I am until the sky makes me give a fruit and bend down in the Summer days…
When big gas balloons were carrying men up and away there was she to capture the metaphore in the moment of release from soaring Residence. Alas, Alas, Alas…
Now there are soaring spikes shooting up the skies, tele-radio-missiles of eye and science, big banging all over dimensions, but no poet or metaphore on release around the bold and courageous trepidation.
A wish, if I may: Let it not be the end of the daisies.
Jesus indignation – I plead – to have mercy on me on the ashes.